


ABCs of Destiel Porn

by tricia_16



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Read Tags On Each Chapter, Series of One Shots, each chapter stands alone, explicit gay sex, so much sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-05-27 12:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15024416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricia_16/pseuds/tricia_16
Summary: Smutty one shots of Dean and Castiel getting it on, with an alphabetic theme to each chapter. The chapters are not connected and should be read on their own.A is for Alpha/Beta/OmegaB is for Bisexual BrosC is for CowboysD is for Dick Pic





	1. A is for Alpha/Beta/Omega

**Author's Note:**

> As you might have read in the tags, each chapter in this story is a stand alone chapter. You don't need to read them in order, and you don't to read anything you're not into. Each chapter will have the tags listed in the chapter summary, so make sure you take a look before you read! 
> 
> Because each chapter is complete while posted, I'm marking the work complete even though there will be 26 chapters in total. I have no update schedule in mind for this, I just plan to add to it when an idea strikes me.
> 
> Enjoy :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tags:**  
>     
> Alpha!Cas  
> Omega!Dean  
> Soulmate fic  
> Age difference (nine years)  
> Top!Cas  
> Bottom!Dean  
> Mating bites  
> Rimming  
> Scent kink  
> Multiple Orgasms  
> No MPreg  
> No power imbalance  
> A/B/Os present at 16

It’s nine o’clock on Saturday night, and Cas is walking aimlessly down the street in the dark, alone. Like always.

Not that he always walks aimlessly down the street, he’s just always alone. His shoulders slump inwards with defeat when he realizes even his internal dialogue is awkward.

No wonder he’s always alone. But it’s fine. _He’s_ fine. Or at least he tries to tell himself he‘s fine. Realistically, deep down inside, he’s unbearably lonely. More lonely than he would ever admit to out loud, and more lonely than he really wants to admit to himself. Because he shouldn’t be that lonely.

It’s true that he doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends, and his family might live across the country, but plenty of people live away from their families. He’s thirty years old and he's managed to go his entire life with without making any lasting friendships, and obviously he still turned out _fine_. He’s got a lucrative career he enjoys and a house he’s made as comforting and inviting as possible, so what’s the big deal if he’s a little lonely?

He takes another deep breath, and lets it out on a loud exhale. He just gets in these moods sometimes. He knows it’s related to the end of another unfulfilling rut. To his inner alpha being angry with him for only using his hand to stimulate his knot for the 14th year in a row. He’s just not interested in spending a day inside of a beta or omega when he doesn’t have any emotional ties to him or her. He doesn’t want just sex.

He wants his soulmate.

The soulmate he’s been waiting to meet since he was sixteen years old and he had his first rut. Subconsciously, he runs his thumb across the blank space on the inside of his wrist where his soulmate tattoo will go, wishing for the millionth time he could know what’s meant to be written there. He's daydreamed  _for years_ about what the first words his soulmate might say to him could be.

It’s exceptionally rare to have a soulmate considering only the first child of two soulmates carry the gene, and depending on the day, he finds it a burden or a blessing. Today, it’s the former. He knows he’s a rare breed of alpha - one who wants to save himself and his body for the person he’s supposed to be with for life. He also knows that it’s a huge part of why he feels so alone, but it's not his fault he was made for one person and one person only. 

His feet carry him inside of his favorite pizza joint. His lips quirk into a tiny smile when he sees the woman behind the counter. Jo. A fellow alpha. With her long blonde hair pulled back in a sleek tail, her big brown eyes, and her sly smile, she’s absolutely beautiful. She’s a little rough around the edges, and honestly, she scares him a little, but then again, most people do. There’s still something about her that he likes, though.

“Hey stranger,” she says to him when she sees him standing at the door. “Gonna come all the way inside or just stand there like a weirdo in a trench coat?”

Cas frowns slightly. He likes this coat. “Good evening, Jo,” Cas replies.

She laughs, but Cas doesn’t know why. _Good evening_ isn’t funny. “What can I get for you tonight?” Jo asks.

Cas looks at the display case. “I’ll have a slice of pepperoni with a chocolate milk, please.”

Jo nods as she grabs the milk from the small fridge and gives it a shake. “You eatin’ in or out tonight?”

Cas turns his head to take in the small storefront around him. There’s only one other person in the store right now. A lanky looking young man with a stack of books and a laptop spread across a table top. He’s obviously lost in his work and won’t be a bother, so he decides to eat in.

“I’ll eat my dinner here tonight, thank you,” Cas answers.

Jo nods, grabs a tray, a stack of napkins, and a paper plate, and makes a show about picking the biggest piece of pizza for Cas before she lays it on the plate and pushes the tray towards him with a smile. “Five big ones,” she says.

Cas squints his eyes at her in confusion. She doesn’t say anything, but quirks an eyebrow at him questioningly. “I would like to pay now,” Cas says finally, dropping his eyes to the counter between them as he reaches in his back pocket for his wallet. Jo laughs again and Cas turns to face the cash register as she presses a button and then points to the display screen.

It’s five dollars.

 _Oh_. Considering how often he comes here, he should have known that was what she meant. He’s always been terrible at picking up on expressions or phrases other people are familiar with, probably due to his lack of a social life, and he berates himself internally for being so awkward. No wonder people don’t want to spend time with him. He can feel his face heating up as he pulls out a five dollar bill and passes it to her.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, unwilling to meet her eyes again.

“Let me know if you need anything else, Cas,” Jo says kindly.

Cas takes the tray and walks to the table furthest away from the young man and Jo, and sits at a small table with his back to the window. He doesn’t want to encourage talking to either Jo or the other man, but he also doesn’t want to look outside into the dark. He’s never really liked the dark.

Jo has music playing in the store like she always does when she’s working, and when Cas brings up his Kindle app and starts reading as he eats his pizza, any prior sense of loneliness has almost disappeared entirely. Jo must be baking some dessert in the back because he can _just_ smell the hint of something sweet, and it’s very much putting him at ease. He loses himself in the story and the calming smell of whatever’s baking, and he’s completely unaware that more than an hour has passed until Jo comes by to grab his plate.

“If you’re gonna sit here all night, do you want some dessert or something?” Jo asks, tilting her head to the side.

“No, thank you. Though I will say that whatever you’re making smells delicious.” Jo looks confused by the compliment, so Cas continues, “I didn’t realize how long I’ve been reading.” He pushes his chair out and gets to his feet. “I should go now.”

“Weird hearing somebody actually turn down dessert for once,” Cas hears, and he flicks his eyes over to the lanky man who is also still at his table. What an odd thing to say to a stranger.

“Yeah, for you, I bet it is,” Jo says back to the man. “You’ve probably never heard it a day in your life.”

They both turn to look at Cas, smiling at him, but Cas doesn’t know what he said to make them smile, so he just nods awkwardly before he starts making his way towards the door.

“Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, what were you reading that you were so into?” the young man says.

Cas stops walking. He feels awkward answering him from so far away, so he takes a few tentative steps back towards him, moving closer to him than he has been since he came in the shop. He’s young, definitely. Likely not even at the age of maturity yet, but he has kind, warm eyes. Cas takes a deep breath before he answers him and the man’s scent trickles into his nasal passages.

He’s a mated alpha, which is rare at his young age but not unheard of, and he smells like... something sweet. Cas scents the air and recognizes hints of chocolate, but it’s the _something else_ underneath the chocolate that he really likes. What  _is_ that?

“Dude,” the young man says, giving him an amused look that conveys he’s definitely aware of what Cas is doing.

“My apologies,” Cas says quickly. “Your scent is pleasing to me.” The guy just raises his eyebrows and Cas tries to explain. “No, no. I can smell that you’re mated. That’s not what this is.” But it _is_ something. “I thought it was something Jo was baking. It made me feel comfortable.” He takes another deep breath and almost whimpers when he feels put at ease for what might be the first time in his life. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’ve just never smelled anything like it before.”

The man looks at him for a minute, and then smiles kindly as she shakes the long hair off of his face. “My mate says I smell like chocolate and caramel.”

Cas feels his lips turn up into a small smile. _Caramel._ “Yes, that’s exactly what it is. The caramel is what I’m reacting to. Interesting that it would make me feel so at home considering I’ve never really eaten sweets.”

The man makes a face of mock horror. “Who doesn’t eat sweets?”

Cas’s lips fall back down. Kids always made fun of him for this. “My father is a dentist,” he explains.

“Damn,” the man says, shaking his head slowly. “You missed out.”

Cas shrugs a shoulder awkwardly, then starts towards the door again.

“See you later, Cas,” Jo says to his back. He waves a hand in an awkward wave in reply.

As he approaches the doors, he sees somebody through the glass go to reach for the handle from outside. Their eyes meet through the glass and Cas gets a glimpse of the greenest eyes he’s ever seen. His eyebrows are furrowed together, and it’s obvious that he’s worried or upset about something, but he still pulls the door open for Cas to walk through.

Cas steps out onto the sidewalk, and suddenly a gust of wind blows towards him and he’s hit with the single best scent he’s ever smelled in his entire life. Apples. Tart, green apples, freshly sliced, mixed perfectly with the sweet smell of caramel. The man smells like a still warm caramel apple, and his scent instantly has Cas’s heart rate picking up, and to his horror, his dick swelling between his legs. He has never been this kind of alpha before, and he’s humiliated by his body’s reaction to this kind stranger holding the door open for him.

But he’s intrigued, too.

As the man begins to walk past him, Cas gets a whiff of the nerves and stress coming off of the man and Cas has to do something to help him. He blurts out, “Hello.”

The man gasps in surprise and looks down at his wrist. He pushes the cuff of his leather jacket up out of the way and the word, **_Hello_** glows on his wrist. Every thought in his mind goes completely blank when a dazzling smile spreads on the man’s face and Cas feels his heart stutter just looking at it. This man not only smells so good Cas wants to bury his face in his neck and never leave, but he also happens to be the most attractive human being he’s ever laid eyes on.

Cas can hear Jo call out, “Earth to Dean?” from inside the pizza place and the man’s smile falls as the crease between his brows returns. Another gust of wind hits Cas, this time pushing  _his_ scent towards the man considering they've traded places.

The man turns back to look at him, nostrils flaring and eyes slipping closed as he inhales deeply.

Cas hears, “Dean, what the hell are you doing?” come from inside again, and when the man opens his eyes again, Cas can actually see the way his pupils are dilated even with the four feet of space between them. He can smell arousal coming off of him in waves, which only increases his own arousal, and then the man’s scent turns sour with anxiety and sadness.

The man looks at Cas, his green eyes boring into his, and says in a deep but smooth voice, “I’ll come back for you.”

Cas lets out a gasp of his own as he feels a burning sensation on his wrist. **_I’ll come back for you_** is glowing a bright gold on his wrist where the skin is no longer bare.

He drags his eyes from his wrist to look back into the pizza store to see the man - his soulmate - has entered the store and is grabbing the young lanky man he was talking to just a few minutes ago by the scruff of his neck and shoving him back towards the door with a hand on his back, clearly in a rush.

The two men come barging out the door, and the man’s eyes meet Cas’s again and Cas can feel his inner alpha reacting to the eye contact. _Mate. Home. Mate._ And freckles, he notices absentmindedly.

“Go talk to Jo,” his mate says as he opens the passenger door of a big black car that Cas just now notices is stopped in the middle of the street. He shoves the taller man into it and says, “Give her your number. I’m sorry - I’m _so_ sorry but I have to go.”

Cas can smell the distress seeping out of him and wants nothing more than to go with him, to follow him, to soothe his mate in any way he can, but he’s already around the other side of the car and has opened the door. “I’ll find you. I’ll come back. I swear. I’m sorry, alpha,” he says again. Then he gets in behind the wheel, and seconds later the car peels away with a squeal of tires.

Cas stands rooted to the spot just outside the door of the pizza parlor. His inner alpha is aching with rejection that’s so crushing he feels like he can’t breathe. His gaze falls to his wrist again and he runs his fingers across the words.  _I’ll come back for you._

The door opens behind him and Jo stands there, looking at him quizzically. “What the hell just happened?”

Castiel blinks at her, completely unable to find words to explain the situation. What _had_ happened? At a loss for words, he holds up his hand and shows her his wrist.

Her eyes bug out of her head and her jaw drops. “You’re Dean’s soulmate?”

“Yes,” he answers, apparently able to make words again.

“Holy shit!” she exclaims. “I don’t know what the hell would make him leave when he just met you. He’s been looking for you since the day he turned sixteen.”

“I’ve been looking for him as well,” he tells her. Another wave of despair hits him and he has to close his eyes to steel himself against it. “Does he - does he not want me?” he whispers.

“He does,” Jo promises. “He said he’d come back for you, right?” she reminds him.

Castiel nods shakily. “He told me to give you my number. Should I just wait here?” he asks instead.

“It’s after ten now. I gotta close at eleven, but you can wait here until then if you want. I won’t even bug you to buy anything else this time,” she says with a soft smile.

“Yes. Thank you. I’ll wait.”

His entire body is tense with anticipation as he sits and waits. Every second feels like an hour, every minute feels like a day, and though Jo tries several times to talk to him, he can’t concentrate on anything except wondering if this is the minute Dean’s going to come back.

He doesn’t, though. Jo turns the lights out, and practically pushes him out the door. He checks the phone number and address he entered in her phone a dozen times, much to her annoyance, and then he walks back home.

He laughs at his earlier thoughts, when he thought he knew what it was to feel lonely. Because it turns out being alone and wondering about the day he would finally meet his mate is infinitely worse than living the day _he did_ meet his mate and still going home alone. The darkness surrounding him only makes him feel steadily worse as he walks slowly back to his house. He feels it permeate his skin and sink into his soul, and by the time he unlocks his front door and walks inside, he’s more miserable than he’s ever been in his entire life.

His heart, his body, and his very soul _ache_ for his soulmate now that he knows he’s really out there. That’s he’s within his grasp. He keeps scenting the air uselessly, hoping to get one more whiff of sweet and tart perfection, but they hadn’t even touched and not a trace of the scent he craves lingers.

He undresses and climbs into his bed, burrowing under the covers with his cell phone clutched in his hand. His body gives up quickly, and he falls asleep dreaming about green eyes and freckles and his smile, in the back of his mind making him feel right.

He wakes to a pounding on his door that instantly has his hackles up. An intruder. He has to protect his home.

After quickly stepping into his boxers from yesterday and wrapping himself in his house coat, he walks quietly but purposefully towards the front door. He glances at the phone still in his hand and sees it’s one in the morning.

Who would come knocking on his door at one in the morning?

Almost as soon as he has the thought, he catches a whiff of sour apple and remembers as his eyes widen. How on earth could have forgotten?

“Cas? I know you’re there man,” Dean says from the other side of the door. “I can smell you. God damn you smell good - all strong and dangerous. I’m not a threat, okay? I’m so sorry about before. Can you let me in? It hurts bein’ away from you, alpha.”

Cas has already flicked on the light and is working on turning the bolt and opening the door, not wanting his mate to feel a second of pain. When he gets the door open, his omega stands in the doorway, absolutely gorgeous and smelling like heaven. Dean’s eyes search his fleetingly for a split second before he launches himself at him and Cas his arms full of a needy, beautiful, delicious smelling omega for the first time in his life.

“Cas,” Dean breathes, relief and happiness pouring from his scent so rapidly it makes Cas dizzy. “Let me - let me scent you. Please, Cas?”

Cas bares his neck to his omega without hesitation, though logically he knows he’s a stranger and they’re still standing in front of an open doorway. With the threat of another alpha imposing on his territory - his _mate_ \- he manages to kick the door closed. Dean leans in (not down, he notices distantly; his omega is as tall as he is) and drags his nose along his neck, causing Castiel to shiver at the sensation while his mate noses his way towards his scent gland.

“Jesus fuck,” Dean gasps, pressing his nose flat against his skin. He feels like lightning spreads through his entire body at just his touch. “You smell so damn good, Cas. I can’t even think." Another deep breath. "Mmmm. Fuck, I want you. You’re so perfect. You’re mine." Then he freezes, his scent turning slightly sour as he drags himself away with a whimper to look at him. "You’re mine, right?” Dean asks.

 _"Yes,"_ Castiel breathes instantly, gazing into the bright green eyes he just now realizes he had been dreaming about. “My soulmate. My beautiful omega. I missed you.”

Dean leans in again to press his nose back to his neck, inhaling greedily and dispelling the heartwarming scent of happy omega. “Missed you, alpha. Will you forgive me?”

“Yes,” he agrees quickly. What wouldn’t he forgive this man? “Is everything alright now? Earlier, you smelled distressed, worried.” He places his hands gently on the curve of his omega hips, not wanting to touch too much too fast, but _needing_ to feel the warmth of his skin through his clothes.

Dean rubs his face along his neck, first one side, then the other, marking himself with Cas’s scent and making them mingle already. “I’m so damn happy now. Been waiting for you for five freakin’ years.”

Cas quickly does the math - Dean’s 21. So young. _So ripe,_ his inner alpha growls, making his already hard erection stiffen further.

“My brother’s mate.” Misplaced jealousy spreads through him like fire as he hears his mate talk about another. “She’s pregnant. Took a test hoping it was negative, but it was positive and she started freaking out. She needed Sam but she was too worked up to drive so I had to get him. Then I walked into you - my perfect alpha, my fuckin’ soulmate - and I had to leave half of me behind just when I found you. Hurt so damn bad, Cas. I was gonna try to wait till morning, but Sam told me to leave ‘cause I was stinkin’ up the place and upsetting Jess.”

“I’m glad you’re here now,” Cas tells him, thumbs rubbing in tiny circles where they fall on the soft swell of his hips.

“Can I stay here with you?”

“For as long as you want,” Cas answers.

Dean steps away from his neck, and though it’s the last thing in the world Cas wants to do, he releases his hips and makes his hands fall to his sides where he clenches them into fists. Dean looks down for a split second, and Cas is wondering if this is the moment Dean recognizes how odd he is and that a perfect omega like him can do so much better than an alpha like Cas.

But then Dean looks back up, and there’s green eyes speckled with gold gazing at him through the curl of long eyelashes, and Cas realizes he’s far more gorgeous than any person should have the right to be.

“Take me to your bed, alpha.”

Arousal hits him so fast and hard, so all encompassing, that he feels weak at the knees. He parts his lips to breathe through his mouth, doing everything within his power not to _take, claim, mate_ this breathtaking omega like his alpha instincts are screaming at him to. A breath of air without the tantalizing scent of unmated omega - his unmated soulmate - clears his head enough for him to turn the light back out. His eyes fall on the glow of his cell phone, which he apparently put down on the small table by the door at some point, but he leaves it there as he leads the way to his bedroom.

“Your house is huge,” Dean says conversationally as he follows behind him.

“I’m an author. I’m quite successful,” he explains, and his inner alpha preens that he can impress this man with at least something.

“Anything I’ve read?” Dean asks.

“I’m C.J. Novak,” he replies.

“Ho-ly shit," Dean chuckles behind him. "I hit the soulmate jackpot.”

Once they enter his bedroom, he unties his house coat and is about to let it slide off of his shoulders when he remembers how his prominent erection is straining against his boxers.

“Would you like something to sleep in?” he asks Dean.

When he turns to face him, his eyes fall on what looks like miles of soft, golden skin. Dean’s already taken off his shirt, opened the fly of his jeans, and has his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans. Without even pausing, he pulls down his jeans and steps out of them, standing there with his hands on his hips while his small omega cock tents his boxer briefs.

“Nah, I’m good,” Dean answers, as if he hasn’t just rocked Cas to the core. He grips the edge of his dresser to keep himself upright and away from Dean as the first hint of omega slick hits the air.

Cas closes his eyes and scents it eagerly, feeling it worm its way inside of him and cause his cock to swell almost painfully. He’s never been so hard in his life, including the ruts he hated so much.

“God damn, you smell good,” Dean breathes, taking a step towards him and quickly eating up the distance between them.

 _“Don’t,”_ Cas barks. Dean freezes, and in his next breath Cas smells the rotten, putrid smell of rejected omega and his inner alpha snarls at him. “No, no, no. No, Dean. It’s not that I don’t want you, it’s that I want you _too much._ I don’t know if I can control myself if you come any closer. You look - you smell - you feel so unbelievably good. I’m struggling to get a handle on myself.”

Dean frowns at him. “What the hell are you doin’ that for? I’m yours, Cas. I was born to be yours. I’m more attracted to you than I’ve been to anybody in my fuckin’ _life,_ and you want to - what? Get to know each other first?”

When he thinks about how awkward he is with people, how nobody likes him, how everybody laughs at him, he can’t possibly subject this perfect omega to somebody like him before he gets to know him. “Yes.”

“Fuck that,” Dean scoffs, walking deliberately closer again.

“Dean - please. I’m trying to protect you. I’m -” Dean steps into his personal space and slides his warm hands up his chest, making Cas’s eyes close in pleasure. “I’m awkward. People don’t like me. I’m - I’m a loser, Dean. I’m so sorry. I’m not a good alpha.”

“You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Dean disagrees, scenting him again and rubbing his face along Cas’s neck. “Those blue eyes and wild hair. Your big shoulders and fuck - those pink, pink lips.” Cas puffs up with pride. His omega thinks he’s attractive. 

“But -"

“And you’re stupid smart, I already know that ‘cause I’ve read your books.”

Dean drags his nose along the column of Cas’s throat, breathing heavily and causing Cas to feel the heady sensation of his breath hot on his skin. As Dean keeps talking, Cas can smell the thickening of Dean’s slick the more his hands roam on his body: on his chest, down his chiseled stomach, up his back.

“You’re a _good_ alpha, Cas.” His voice is deeper now, coming out in a sultry drawl that has everything inside of him heating up. “Letting me go when I know you didn’t want me to. Checking on me to make sure I was okay when I got here. Letting me in here in the middle of the night. Letting me stay. Tryin’ not to touch me when I know -”

Cas’s breath catches when he feels the omega push his housecoat off of his shoulders and slither up against him. Skin to skin. _Oh, god._ He feels so good. So soft and warm.

Dean’s almost as tall as he is - probably will be taller than him when he’s done growing - but his body’s smaller. His hips are soft and curvy, and his frame is slight, though still large for an omega. Cas feels his eyes roll up into his head when Dean presses even closer and their erections slot together.

“- I _know_ how much you want me.”

The mouthwatering scent of omega slick is permeating his senses. He can’t think of anything but how good it smells, how warm Dean’s skin is, how their bodies line up perfectly, and how nothing has ever felt so right.

 _“Dean,”_ he warns, knowing his tiny, infinitesimal thread of control is only a breath away from snapping entirely.

He feels the quick, sweet drag of their cocks together as Dean gets on his tiptoes and wraps his arms around his neck. He opens his eyes in time to see green eyes and freckles, and then everything stops when Dean leans in and captures his mouth with those plush, plump lips of his.

He reacts instinctively, gripping at Dean’s back and holding him in place while he presses his lips against Dean’s again and again. Their mouths slide together curiously until they hit the perfect spot that makes it feel like like they’re made for one another, and they cling together desperately as his fingers dig into the soft skin of his omega.

Dean moans against his mouth, and when his lips part, Cas mimics the movement and now he can _taste him_ and the thread  _snaps_.

He lifts Dean off of the ground and spins him until he’s pressed into the dresser. Dean gasps and wraps his legs around his waist as he dives into his mouth with his tongue. Cas is inexperienced and floundering, but he chases the taste of him and follows his tongue into his mouth with his own, trembling with desire when he feels them move together.

Dean rolls his hips and arousal coils tight inside of him when the dampness of Dean’s slick seeps through his boxers. His hands slide down Dean’s back and towards the alluring heat of his mate’s hole, waiting for him, slick and so sweet smelling he can’t think through the fog of _want_.

When his palms cup that sweet omega ass for the first time his cock twitches between them and there is _nothing_ more important than claiming this omega as his own. Dean claws at his back, trying to draw him impossibly closer as he keeps dragging his ass along Cas’s aching cock, and he’s dizzy with lust. God, he can’t even breathe for wanting him.

No - wait. He actually can’t breathe.

He wrenches his lips away with a gasp, and Dean latches onto his neck, nipping and sucking where a mating bite would go, and for the first time in his thirty years, he growls.

“Oh fuck, yes,” Dean groans. “Please, alpha. Want your knot.”

He thrusts hard against him blindly, barely registering the sound of the dresser knocking against the wall, and Dean hisses as Cas catches a sliver of pain in his scent.

He steps back as if he's been burned and Dean barely manages to get his feet under him in time to remain standing.

“Wh-what?” Dean blinks in confusion. “No, come back. Please, I need you,” Dean begs, moving towards him again. His plump lips are swollen and wet with spit, his eyes are dark and hooded, his face and chest is flushed a beautiful rosy red, and Cas has never _wanted_ \- never even knew what it was to want - until this moment.

“I hurt you,” he gasps, shame gnawing at his insides.

“What? No,” Dean disagrees. “I’m good.”

“I could smell it. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m so - so lost with lust, I’m losing myself.”

“Cas,” Dean says softly, exposing his neck and flooding him with a calming, comforting scent so perfect Cas feels it wrap around him like a blanket.

“Dean,” he whimpers as relief begins to flow through him.

“Scent me, alpha,” Dean offers, and considering the way Cas’s nose is pulled to him like a magnet, he doesn’t have a chance in hell of resisting the offer.

His nose creeps along such smooth, soft skin, that he slows down to savor the sensation. He sniffs each inch of his neck until he zeros in on the sweetest, most delectable spot and inhales deeply and intensely.

His cock throbs between his legs and his head spins as he drowns in the single best scent he’s ever experienced. Sweet, melted caramel and ripe, tart apples, now infused with a salty twang that he recognizes as his own scent.

“You’re mine,” he breathes.

“Yours,” Dean agrees. “Mmm you feel so good. Smell so good,” Dean says, turning his head to rub his nose against his cheek. He keeps going until his breath is hot on his ear, and his voice is soft and seductive when he says, “I want you. Please, alpha. I need you.”

Cas’s fingers tighten where they’ve somehow landed on his ass, and they both gasp when he kneads the supple flesh in his palms. “I hurt you,” Cas remembers.

“The dresser hurt me,” Dean argues, blazing a trail of fire down the column of his throat. “Got jabbed with a handle in the spine. Not your fault.”

“I - I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

Dean’s teeth catch on his Adam’s apple and pulls a sharp inhale from Cas. “I’m not exactly gonna break,” he promises, and then he snakes his hands down his chest until he’s rubbing Cas’s erection with his hand.

 _“Oh,_ Dean,” Cas breathes heavily.

“Mmm you’re fuckin’ huge, alpha,” Dean groans happily. He takes a step back towards Cas’s bed and Cas follows him, chasing the dry friction of his hand on his cock. Dean grins wolfishly at him, and Cas finds he can no longer resist the temptation of those lips curved so perfectly, and he crushes their lips together with a needy sound in the back of his throat.

Dean keeps leading them backwards and Cas is helpless to do anything but follow him and continue to do his best to learn every single thing that makes his breath catch. When the back of Dean’s knees hit the mattress, he begins to fall backwards. Cas catches him with one hand cradling the back of his head and one hand on the curve of his back as he lowers him gently onto his bed. He fills the vee between Dean’s legs and lies down on top of him, lips still locked together.

Their straining cocks line up again and Dean moves beneath him, guiding him into a scorching grind that steals his breath and finally breaks their kiss. Dean’s lips find his scent gland expertly, sucking on the sensitive flesh and causing bright bursts of pleasure behind his closed lids. Dean’s hands run down his back and to his boxers, pushing them down until he has to roll onto his back to kick them off. Before he can get back up, Dean’s boxers - soaked through and drenched with the heavenly scent of his slick - land directly on his face with a laugh from his omega that makes his heart sing, and when he breathes in, _he snaps_ for the second time.

He rolls back over, and feeling alpha strength course through his body, he flips Dean onto his stomach and follows his nose directly to Dean’s ass. He spreads his cheeks and moans when his thumbs slip on the slick that’s made such a glorious mess out of his taint and balls. He can just hear his omega begging for him over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

“Please, Cas. _Fuck._ Please, please, please. Wanna feel you so damn bad.”

He has no idea what he’s doing beyond the desire driving him to know if his omega tastes as good as he smells. He lowers his mouth tentatively, suddenly feeling shy that he might do something wrong, but the need to know overpowers his nerves and he licks a small stripe along his crack, lapping up some of the slick glistening there.

He moans with pleasure as the sweet flavor bursts on his tongue, and then he dives in and flattens his tongue against Dean’s hole. He swirls it around, pressing and stretching until he can spear his tongue inside of him. Dean calls out, so he does it again and again, forcing his tongue as deep inside of his omega as he can go. His chin slides in the slick, and he moans as the aroma and savoriness floods his senses. All he can think is _more, more, more_ and _mine, mine, mine_ as he feasts, slurping and licking, tasting and drinking down the slick as it continues to flow from Dean’s hole.

Dean’s making the most arousing sounds beneath him, shoving his ass into his face and riding his tongue in a sensuous grind that makes his cock twitch. He lets Dean take and take until he suddenly feels Dean’s body tense and a new, impossibly _better_ scent surrounds him as Dean yells out his name. Pulling away from his hole with a wet squelching sound, Castiel follows his nose and flips Dean onto his back where he sees his cum thick and white still dribbling from his cock.

Again, without thinking, he plunges forwards and takes Dean’s cock into his mouth. He wraps his lips around him and sucks on the tip, eager to drink down the flavor, and moans happily when it’s everything he could ever want. Dean’s hands slide into his hair and he hears him curse vehemently before he whimpers and drags his head away.

“What - the - fuck,” Dean rasps, pulling him in to wipe at his face before he captures his lips in a searing kiss that rocks Cas to his core. Without even meaning to do it, he’s rutting against the crease of Dean’s leg faster and faster, chasing his orgasm, but Dean stills him by placing his hands on his hips and breaking out of their kiss.

“You’re gonna gimme your knot, right, alpha?”

“I -” Cas sputters as arousal flashes hot all over, not even thinking clearly enough to know this might be a bad admission to make at this point. “I’ve never -”

Dean’s eyes widen in disbelief. “You’ve _never?”_ Cas shakes his head no, confirming what Dean’s asking him. “Just never let your knot catch?”

“I’ve never had sex,” Cas clarifies.

Dean blinks and shakes his head as if he can’t understand what he’s saying. “You just ate me out so good I came all over myself, then swallowed my cock down like a fuckin’ porn star.”

“I enjoy the way you taste,” Cas explains, feeling an embarrassed blush work its way across his cheeks.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Dean breathes happily before he kisses him quickly. “I’m tellin’ ya, soulmate jackpot.” Cas smiles, proud that his omega is happy with him, and Dean’s eyes go soft as he cups his face in his hands. “My sweet, perfect alpha. Saving your knot just for me. Ain't that right? Only wanted me to know how good you could feel?”

“Yes,” Cas confirms. “I never wanted anybody but you.”

“And now you can’t keep your hands off of me,” Dean comments, glancing down at the way Castiel’s hand is drifting lazily along his soft skin. “I want you, Cas.” Dean lifts his legs and plants his feet flat on the mattress. He reaches between them and takes Cas’s cock in hand, positioning the thick head against his hole. “I wanna be your first. Your only.”

He’s trembling everywhere at once, his body shaking from the combination of his hands holding himself up and the restraint it’s taking to hold himself back, and he stutters, “C-condom.”

“Nuh uh,” Dean says with a shake of his head. “I’m clean. Never been with anybody without one. Saving my ass just for you, alpha.” He leans up onto his elbows to catch Cas’s lips in another kiss, drawing him down by the back of his neck and causing Cas’s cock to nudge at his hole. “Do it.”

With a single thrust, Cas breeches Dean’s hole and slides home into the slick, warm channel of his soulmate for the first time. His jaw drops on a shuddering exhale as he feels the narrow inner walls of his omega stretching to accommodate his girth.

“F-fuck that feels good,” Dean stutters, clutching at his lower back to hold him in place. “You good, alpha?”

“Dean - I - _god,_ Dean,” Cas breathes. “You feel incredible.”

“I’m so fuckin’ loose after you ate me out so good you just slipped right in.”

“I’ve never felt anything so good in my life,” Cas tells him, overcome with a rush of feelings. The beauty of being inside of his soulmate, of being _complete_ for the first time is beginning to make him feel emotional, and he doesn’t want Dean to know. He doesn’t want to be weak in front of him. He leans forwards to scent his omega - still so perfect - and presses kiss after kiss to his neck and jaw, following whenever Dean tilts his head to give him more access.

Dean’s hands move back down to his ass and he pulls him in slightly, eliciting a sound of pleasure from Cas. “Move with me, Cas,” Dean asks him.

Cas withdraws half an inch and pushes right back into the perfect heat with a heavy puff of air. It’s twice as good as the first time. “Again,” Dean urges him. “More this time.” He pulls out again, further, and thrusts back in, earning a happy hum from Dean. “Yeah, alpha,” he encourages him with a nod as Cas does it again and again. “You feel so fuckin’ good, Cas. Keep going. More if you want.”

Cas pulls out twice as far again and slams back in, harder than he meant to, but so eager to feel Dean’s walls squeezing around him that he loses control. Dean throws his head back with a high pitched sound that goes directly to his cock, and with the permission that sound grants, he does it over and over. He drives his cock into his slick omega, overwhelmed as pleasure only continues to drive him higher and higher with every thrust.

Dean pulls him down by the neck again, attacking his mouth as he fucks into it with his tongue, and now he’s feeling, smelling, and tasting his omega all at the same time and he hears another growl rumble low in his chest as the instinct _to knot, to claim, to mate_ overcomes him.

He can feel his orgasm building hot and needy in his stomach, his cock pounding harder and harder into his sweet little omega, Dean’s legs wrapping around his waist and wrenching his mouth away with a desperate cry of, _“There!_ Like that, please!” Cas thrusts in again and Dean nods eagerly. “Oh fuck, like that, Cas. Oh shit, shit, shit. Don’t stop, alpha.”

Desperate to please his omega, to see and taste his sweet release again, he drills into him the same way again and again, feeling Dean’s walls clenching around him deliciously and dragging him closer and closer to the edge.

“Dean. Dean, I -” he stutters.

“Mmmm yeah, come on, alpa. Wanna feel that knot.”

He can feel it swelling, feel it starting to catch on Dean’s slick rim with each thrust, feel Dean’s ass beginning to squeeze him tighter and tighter as he gets thicker and thicker. Dean’s whimpering with pleasure, egging him on, meeting him thrust for thrust and asking for it harder as he digs his nails into his back. He _barely_ makes it out, and on the very next thrust, Cas drives into him as hard and as deep as he can. He can feel his knot catch, feel it swell and fill Dean, finally locking them together as he spills _hard_ inside of his omega with a strangled cry of, “DEAN!”

Dean jerks beneath him and additional pleasure spirals through him as Dean’s walls squeeze him perfectly. Cas opens his eyes just in time to see Dean paint his golden stomach with rope after rope of sweet smelling cum. He floods into him again, a second orgasm tacked so quickly onto the end of his first that it knocks the breath out of him. Dean moans wantonly and works himself expertly on Cas’s knot to wring out every drop.

More tired and sated than he’s ever been in his life, he drops his forehead against Dean’s trying to catch his breath. Dean turns Cas’s neck to the side and noses forwards. Knowing that Dean wants to scent the satisfaction he just wrung out of him, he lowers his neck and grants him access to neck. Dean’s lips part, his hand wraps around the back of his neck, and he can feel his mouth hot and wet on his skin. He shivers with want, and the very next second, euphoria surges through him as Dean bites through his skin and claims him with his mating bite.

He groans a guttural sound as everything in the entire world narrows down to Dean, to his omega and soulmate. His scent changes, happier and more pure than he’s ever smelled himself, and Dean whines before he releases him and kisses his mark gently, soothing the sting with a multitude of soft presses of his lips.

 _“Mine,”_ Dean breathes happily.

“My mate,” Cas replies, tears springing ubidden to his eyes.  

“Oh, please, Cas,” Dean begs, grabbing him by his hair and leading his mouth to his neck. “Please, please, alpha. I’ll be so good. I’ll be such a good omega for you. I swear, Cas. Pl-”

Cas sinks his teeth into his scent gland and claims him as his third orgasm wracks through his body like an earthquake. Dean’s scent transforms, smelling distinctly of salted caramel mixed with happiness and _mate_ and _home_ and Cas’s tears spill over as he cleans up his mate’s dripping neck with his tongue.

With one last final burst of energy, he rolls over until Dean’s on top so that he can collapse without worrying about crushing him, and sinks back onto his bed. The movement causes his knot to tug at Dean’s rim and they both gasp and groan before Dean deliberately stills.

“If I come again I’m gonna black out,” Dean warns him, his face flat against his chest. “I’m barely holding on to consciousness as it is.”

He doesn’t need to ask if he’s okay though, because now that they’ve mated, he’s so attuned to his scent that _he knows_ he’s a blissfully happy, completely satisfied, mated omega.

As the sweat and their mixed fluids begin to dry and cool on his skin, he rasps, “Blankets.”

Dean grunts unhappily but grabs the edge of his comforter and throws it over them haphazardly. Cas tucks himself and his mate into his blanket like a cocoon, wrapping his arms around him to keep him close. He feels less lonely and more complete than he ever has in his entire life, and he promptly falls asleep, knowing that absolutely everything has changed for the better.


	2. B is for Bisexual Bros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tags:**  
>  \- College AU  
> \- Best friends to lovers  
> \- Stripper!Meg, Stripper!Chastity  
> \- Bottom Dean

“I still don’t understand why you want _me_ to go to a strip club with you,” Castiel complains.

“I dunno, Cas. Maybe because you’re my best friend and it’s my fucking birthday?” Dean answers, knocking back yet another shot of whisky and licking up a stray drop of amber liquid teasing at the corner of his luscious mouth.

Castiel just barely manages not to choke on his own spit.

“What about Sam?” he asks, mentally patting himself on the back for how even his voice sounds considering the dozens of sexual images that just sprang unbidden to his mind.

“Thought you were the smart one? Sam’s not 21 yet.”

So much for that pat on the back. Apparently _not_ thinking about Dean’s tongue has taken the entirety of his brain power, and he scrambles for a response. “Shut up - you're smart, too. And anyway, you have other friends who are more into the bar scene than I am.”

“Would you shut your trap already? It’s my birthday, I wanna go, and you’re going with me. End of story,” Dean says, shooting him a cocky smile to soften his words as well as Castiel’s resolve.

He and Dean have been friends since they met at the Pride Parade during their first year of university two and a half years ago, and Castiel has been in love with him for precisely two and a half years.

He never believed in love at first sight until his eyes fell upon the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen wearing a bisexual pride flag like a toga. He had golden skin covered in a smattering of freckles, the greenest eyes imaginable, and perfectly white teeth framed by full, pouty lips so tempting they made him feel weak in the knees at his very first glance. By a strange stroke of luck, the toga man was standing next to the girl from his biochemistry class who he had somehow managed to become friends with this semester, and suddenly he was walking through the parade with both of them.

From that day forward, he and Dean have been inseparable and have even become roommates. It’s been bittersweet living with Dean. A part of him loves having him so close and being able to spend so much time with him, but on the flip side, seeing and/or hearing Dean being intimate with other people gets more difficult every time it happens.

It’s been a while since Dean’s brought anybody back to their apartment though, and he has a feeling that’s why Dean’s _really_ wanting to go out tonight.

To pick up.

And that’s not something he’s looking forward to even a little bit, but Dean shot him that cocky smile and it’s not as if he can say _no_ to a face like that. Though he’s never come right out and admitted to it, he’s fairly certain Dean’s aware of the feelings he has for him (or at least the attraction), and using his good looks like this to get what he wants is a very _Dean_ thing to do. Nevertheless, Castiel has never been able to deny him anything, and he’s not about to start on his best friend’s birthday.

“You’d better pass the bottle then, because there’s no way I’m going this sober,” Castiel relents. “And when it’s my birthday and I want to go to a museum, I don’t want to hear a single word out of you.”

Dean snorts as he hands the bottle to Castiel. “As long as I can get hammered first, you’re on.”

And so the next two hours pass with he and Dean sharing a bottle of whisky and building up his liquid courage before they head to the strip club of Dean’s choice. He’s pretty drunk, and it takes all of his concentration (and Dean’s arm around his waist) not to sway while he hands over his ID to the bouncer at the door.

He insists on buying the drinks for tonight, and he and Dean each grab a beer before he follows Dean to the seats closest to the stage. They’re in between dancers right now, so they’re able to snag two front row seats on the end of the row, which Dean insists is a good thing because the waitresses will be able to get to them more easily. He’s a little surprised by how close the seats are to each other, and while he doesn’t mind his one arm brushing Dean’s, he’s glad he’s on the end of the row so he doesn’t have to sit that close to a stranger.

The first dancer who comes out is introduced as Chastity, and Castiel gets an eyeful of a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair wearing white lingerie. He drags his eyes down her body and feels arousal kick in when he sees her breasts pushed up high by a plunging neckline punctuated with a big bow between them. While he keeps looking her up and down, his eyes skirt past the sheer material covering her stomach so his eyes can feast on what looks like miles of tanned legs showcased by strappy high heels that click as she walks towards center stage.

A slow song starts playing that he vaguely recognizes from hearing on the radio, and then she starts to dance, and suddenly Castiel is torn between being mesmerized by the way she moves her body and not wanting to look like he’s overly eager to see her take her clothes off. She’s beautiful in an almost innocent way (he suddenly understands the chosen name Chastity) and there’s no denying that it sparks something inside of him. He wants to muss her up. He wants to see her covered in hickies, with her mouth full and her head between his legs, and thick, white...

“Ain’t so bad, huh Cas?”

Dean had to lean over and talk directly into his ear to make sure he would be heard over the music, and his hot breath on Castiel’s skin paired with his thoughts causes a shiver to run through him.

“She’s beautiful,” he says honestly, trying to ignore the physical reaction his body always seems to have whenever he’s this close to Dean.

He feels his arm jostled when Dean shrugs a shoulder. “She’s got a nice rack but not really my type.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows and looks over at his friend, surprised to see just how close their faces are. He wets his lips without even meaning to. “What’s not to like?”

“The whole innocent act doesn’t really do it for me. I want somebody who can blow my mind, y’know?”

His turns back towards the stage and tries not to think about all the different ways _he_ might be able to blow Dean’s mind, and thankfully, Chastity is making it easy on him. She’s leaning back against the pole, and as she slides down it slowly with her ass cheeks snug against it Castiel can feel his heart start thundering in his chest. When she’s slid halfway down, she spreads her legs to reveal a lace thong that his all of his buttons and has his palms sweating already.

“Fuuuck me,” he says quietly.

Dean snorts beside him. “And I thought you’d be stuck up once you got here.”

Castiel doesn’t bother suppressing his eye roll. Dean doesn’t know him nearly as well he thinks he does when it comes to this kind of thing.

Chastity gets down on her hands and knees and crawls towards the front of the stage, and Castiel’s eyes are immediately drawn to the way her breasts jiggle as she moves. She rolls onto her back, plants her feet on the stage and thrusts her hips upwards in time to the music. Her breasts are so close to spilling out of her top that he leans forwards automatically to try to get a better look. Then she lifts her legs straight up into the air, spreads her legs over her head, and rolls back onto her stomach towards their side of the stage before she gets up onto her hands and knees with her ass in the air.

She looks towards him and Dean as she gets to her feet, and the first time their eyes meet, she smiles shyly before she slides her hand up her stomach to her breasts and slowly unties the bow between them all while she maintains eye contact. He bites down on his lower lip when the sheer material covering her torso falls to the floor and he gets a good look at her tan, taught stomach for the first time.

He sees Dean motioning towards her with a bill up in the air, and she walks over seductively to bend into a squat only inches in front of them. From this close up, the muscles in her legs become obvious and he can’t help but notice just how smooth her skin looks. His hands itch to run over every inch of her.

His attention is pulled to Dean when he sees his big, thick fingers carefully slide a ten dollar bill into the thin strip of lace on her hip, and he can’t quite stifle a pathetic sounding noise at the erotic sight. Chastity must have heard him, because the next thing he knows he’s got a very smooth hand cupping his face gently, and when he looks away from where Dean’s fingers are still on her skin, he notices her breasts are currently directly in front of his face.

Caught off guard and not exactly sure what the appropriate thing to do is in this situation, he looks down at his lap awkwardly. The very next second, her hand’s on his chin and his face is tipped up before being buried inside of the cleavage of one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen as the crowd goes wild around them. Knowing damn well that he isn’t allowed to touch, his hands tighten on his thighs and he tries not to think about how perfectly smooth and supple her breasts feel against his face, and how desperate he is to root around until he can suck her nipple into his mouth and hear her gasp with pleasure.

He feels a hand combing through his hair before his face is pulled free from the depths of her cleavage, and he gets a sultry sounding, “Good boy,” from Chastity before she walks to the other side of the stage.

“Holy shit, dude!” Dean exclaims from beside him, giving him a soft punch on his arm. “I give up the cash and you get a face full of tits! How the hell does that happen?”

“Fuck if I know, but I’m not complaining,” he quips, making Dean laugh.

“Shit,” Dean exhales, ruffling his hair in a nervous gesture Castiel is familiar with. “Never thought I’d say this, but it was damn hot to see you like that.”

His eyes go wide when he looks at his friend with bewilderment. “What? Hot how?”

“I dunno. You never hook up at home, so I’ve never seen you with anybody. Guess I haven’t really thought about you _like that_ ‘til now.”

He tries to pretend like his heart isn’t racing a mile a minute, and looks back at Chastity to distract himself just in time to see her slip her tiny lace thong down her legs before she tosses it in his direction with a wink. His eyes are drawn to them like a magnet and there’s nothing he wants more than to pick them up and feel the lacy fabric on his skin, but he leaves them where they are in front of him and shakes his head in exasperation instead, wondering why on earth this stripper has taken a liking to him of all people. Then she bends over at the waist with her legs slightly spread and offers the audience a glimpse of her pussy, completely bare and just begging for his mouth and he knows he needs to see that much clearer than how he can right now.

He pulls a twenty out of his own wallet and drops it onto the dance floor by her panties, but sadly, that’s when her song comes to an end. She glances over her shoulder in their direction and gives them a slight jerk of her head before she leaves the stage.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean asks excitedly.

“I have no idea,” he says honestly.

“Guess your upstairs brain ain’t workin’ all that well right now, huh?” Dean jokes, pressing his knee against his thigh. Castiel glances down and sees that he definitely has a situation going on downstairs.

He crosses his legs in a futile attempt to hide the state he’s in, and while his face is all kinds of red, he answers, “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck no. I’m in the same boat and she didn’t even touch me.”

He’s sure it isn’t his imagination when he feels his dick twitch in his pants. Jesus christ. Dean just admitted to sporting wood directly beside him ( _because_ of him?) while their legs are pressed up together _after_ Dean told him he thinks he was hot with Chastity.

“Well, talk it down because you’re going to get the next drink,” he replies, thankful for the years of practice he’s already had at pretending not to be aroused by his best friend.

Instead, Dean lifts his beer bottle in the air, and it’s only a minute later when a red-headed waitress wearing incredibly short jean shorts and a plaid shirt tied to reveal her midriff saunters over.

Another round of drinks is delivered while a very attractive but somewhat severe looking woman dressed in a business suit begins her strip tease. Dean seems much more on board with this woman, ogling her openly in a predatory way that doesn’t do a damn thing to kill his boner. She can really dance, and he can’t find fault in the way she gyrates her hips on the stage, but she isn’t exactly his type. She leaves her panties on - not that they leave much to the imagination - but completely removes her top, and yeah, he’s a lot more interested once he sees her caressing her own breasts with her head thrown back.

“Sign me the fuck up,” Dean says from beside him, with his voice low and sexy. “Look at those fucking lips.”

“Lips? Really? How’re you looking away from her chest?”

Dean laughs dryly. “I’ve seen my share of tits, Cas. Every woman’s got a pair, and they’re all awesome, but not everybody has lips like that.”

Castiel shakes his head in disagreement. “If there’s not at least a handful, I don’t even bother. If I wanted a flat chest, I’d go for a guy.”

“Too bad there’s no gay strip clubs around here. I’d love to see a ripped dude up there dancing like this,” Dean comments.

“Mmhmm,” Castiel agrees lazily, sipping from his beer. “I’m glad you dragged me out tonight.”

“Ah ha!” Dean says, clapping a hand down on his shoulder and squeezing gently. “Two drinks and two chicks, and you’re thanking me already.”

“I’m having more fun than I thought I would,” he admits. “Watching women is much less stressful than trying to carry on a conversation or attempting to dance with them.”

Dean laughs, and Castiel tries to tell his heart to calm the fuck down when it starts hammering as Dean’s hand drifts across his back and stays there on the back of his seat. Dean leans in _way too close_ and says, “You gotta let me be your wing man, buddy. If this face of mine can’t get you laid, nothing can.”

Castiel nods reluctantly as his eyes drift down to Dean’s perfectly plump lips. “After tonight, I think I’m gonna need it. I don’t think flying solo’s going to be satisfying after all this build up.”

“Mmhmm,” Dean agrees, his voice a low rumble between his lips. “Alright, I got you, man. This year for my birthday, we’re both gettin’ laid.” Dean holds his beer bottle up and Castiel lifts his to tap the necks together.

As the night goes on, they continue drinking their beer and talking openly about the strippers in a way he’s never spoken with Dean before. He learns more about Dean’s sexual preferences than he ever thought he would. He’s left in a semi-aroused state for the entirety of their evening, half because of the gorgeous women on stage, and half because of the way Dean doesn’t seem to be willing to put any space between them. When the announcement comes on introducing a fan-favorite, he’s already on the edge of his seat with anticipation.

Meg is a petite brunette with long, wavy hair who walks onto the stage to Marilyn Manson’s version of _Sweet Dreams (Are Made of These)_ and immediately steals his breath. She’s poured her voluptuous body into an incredibly tight, strapless red top that’s laced up the front, and a short, black pleather skirt. She’s wearing fishnet stockings and extremely high and narrow heels, and even just walking on to the stage - slowly and deliberately to the music - it’s easy to see she exudes confidence.

“See the way this chick’s taking control of the room?” Dean says as he leans in. “That’s what I was talkin’ about before. Fuckin’ love it when I just get dragged along for the ride.”

“She’s _hot,”_ Castiel agrees. “Small, but she just demands attention, you know?”

“She’d have you begging for it,” Dean comments, his voice low and husky.

Castiel keeps trying to ignore the way he and Dean keep gravitating closer together, and Meg’s a fantastic distraction. She moves in an entirely different way than Chastity did, though it’s no less appealing. While Chastity was all grace and smooth sways of her hips, Meg is rough and dirty. She grinds slow and dirty to the beat of the music, getting faster as the beat picks up, jerking her hips around and grinding against the pole, the stage, and her own hands at every opportunity.

When she unlaces her top and her breasts spill out, his hand tightens on Dean’s thigh and he just hears the sharp inhale of his breath over the music. She’s absolutely gorgeous, and the sassy smirk on her lips is captivating. There’s a slight blush to her face within a few minutes of her song, and whether it’s from exertion or the lights, it looks like she’s flushed with desire and it adds to the illusion that she wants to fuck every one of them.

The second time the chorus plays, she faces away from the audience, throws her hair over one shoulder with a flick of her head, and pulls her pleather skirt down inch by tantalizing inch, finally revealing a black thong with sparkling rhinestones fitted flawlessly to the curve of each perfectly rounded asscheek.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean groans from beside him. “I’d eat that ass like a fuckin’ buffet.”

The mental image of Dean buried between Meg’s legs with her head thrown back in pleasure flashes in his brain and he breathes slow and deep to try to calm himself down. He hasn’t been this fucking horny since he was a teenager and nobody’s even touched him yet - except for Dean, which shouldn’t really count since he’s sure he isn’t meaning to rile him up the way he is.

By the time the song picks up near the end, Meg’s whipping around the pole so fast and so seductively, brazenly showing off her stamina and flexibility, that he and Dean and everybody else around them are completely slack jawed just watching her.

The music pulses at the end of the song and she wraps her legs around the pole before bending completely backwards and sliding down wearing only the tiny thong, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination about how she’d look with her legs wrapped around whoever was lucky enough to be chosen as her lover.

The music stops completely and she rights herself with more ease than should be possible before she strolls along the stage blowing kisses and winking at the men holding out bills for her. She doesn’t stop to pick up the ones that have fallen to the floor, but she does pause long enough for people to slip bills into her thong. He and Dean both have bills for her, and they tuck them into the string carefully.

“Mmm you two must be who Chastity was telling me about,” Meg says in a low drawl. “Haven’t seen you around before.”

“It’s his birthday,” Castiel blurts.

Meg arches one perfectly shaped brow. “Well, I’ll tell you what. For the birthday boy, me and Chastity will dance for you both privately - two for one for the price of one - as long as blue eyes comes along.”

“We pay for one dance but we get you both?” Dean checks.

“Not just a pretty face,” she says with a smirk. “Tell the bouncer you made a deal with the devil.” They both nod stupidly and she tosses her hair over her shoulder before she says, “Don’t make me wait,” and saunters off stage.

“Fuck Disney. This strip club is the happiest place on earth,” Dean says once she’s gone. Castiel can’t help but laugh.

“How much do you think a private dance is?”

“Who the fuck cares? Two strippers for the price of one?”

Castiel bites down on his bottom lip. “But we’ll have to share the room. We won’t have any privacy from each other.”

“Dude, we share a bathroom. How much privacy do you really think we need? I’ve seen you in nothin’ but a towel a million times.”

“And I’ve heard you fuck a million times, but you’ve never seen or heard anything like that from me!”

“Chill. We’re both dudes. We know what dicks look like, and there’s no reason we can’t just be mature and not make a big deal outta this. And we don’t even know what’s gonna happen in there. I ain’t never had a private dance before. Have you?” Castiel shakes his head in response. “So let's chill. Just remember you’re doin’ this because it’s my birthday, and I ain’t lookin’ a gift horse in the mouth. Meg said you gotta come, so you’re comin’. Capice?”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Fine. But you fucking owe me, Winchester.”

“You wish. Let’s go,” Dean says, getting to his feet and leading the way towards the hallway where the girls had disappeared to. They don’t get far before they’re stopped by a short but slimy looking guy wearing an all-black suit.

“Hello, boys,” he says in a deep voice.

Castiel looks to Dean and Dean replies, “Meg said to tell you we made a deal with the devil.”

His eyebrows shoot up before a knowing smile curves his lips. “I bet she did. Thirty dollars for a song or one fifty for a half hour.”

“A song’ll do it, huh, Cas?” Dean asks.

“It’s your birthday,” Castiel answers, putting the decision back on him.

Dean nods. “Yeah, one song is good.”

Castiel takes out his wallet and hands over the bills to the man who now has his hand held out. He smiles again and points down the hall. “Second door on your left. The only rules are keep your hands to yourself and keep it in your pants. You break either rule and I’ll blacklist you from every strip club in a fifty mile radius. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean says with a cheeky smile, causing Castiel to snort with laughter. He’s incorrigible.

“Go before I change my mind,” the man growls, and they both go down the hall glancing over their shoulders.

Dean gives Castiel one last crooked smile before he knocks on the door.

Meg’s the one who pulls it open. She’s in a sparkly black top that ties around her neck with a low, draping neckline that shimmers in the light as she leans up against the door jam and incredibly tiny booty shorts. “Well, well, well,” she drawls. “You ready for some fun, birthday boy?”

“I was a good boy all year,” Dean quips, grinning.

“I highly doubt that,” she says dryly. She steps away from the door and gestures for them to walk inside. As soon as Castiel closes the door behind him _Crazy Bitch_ by Buckcherry starts playing, and his eyes are drawn to the source of the music. Chastity stands by a pill speaker wearing the white version of Meg’s shirt and flips her hair over her shoulder before she curls her finger and beckons him to come closer.

He only takes a step before he stops when he sees Meg with a hand on Dean’s broad chest pushing him back towards a chair with a predatory look on her face. Dean’s smirking at her and says, “Bet this is your song choice, huh, beautiful?”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me, Ken doll,” she replies, pushing him with both hands until Dean falls awkwardly into the chair.

“Come here, sweetie,” Chastity says, drawing his attention back to her.

“Unless you just wanna watch,” Meg offers, circling behind Dean and dragging her hand across his shoulders as she goes. “I put on a hell of a show.”

“I believe it,” Castiel responds. “But it’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

“Such a gentleman,” Chastity purrs. He sits on the chair beside Dean and jumps when Chastity lies her hands on his shoulder at the same time Dean’s thigh presses against his. “So tense,” she comments. Her breath is hot on his ear as she slides her hands down his chest from behind before they move back up. “Let me help you with that, gorgeous. Just sit back and relax and we’re going to make you feel so good you forget about everything else.”

He watches as she walks around the chair in front of him and towards Meg and tangles their fingers together. The two girls slot their legs together and start a dirty grind of curves pressed closely against tantalizing curve while they nuzzle together close enough that he wonders if they’re actually going to kiss. Then Meg spins so her back is to Chastity and slithers down her body like it’s a pole on stage, and when she pops back up, she turns Chastity around and slides her hands up Meg’s back. She moves Meg’s hair out of the way and kisses along her neck.

“Fuck,” Dean whispers from beside him, nudging him with his knee. “They’re hot together.”

“Extremely,” Castiel agrees.  

Chastity smiles before she locks eyes with him and pulls the knot holding Meg’s shirt up, causing it to fall forwards and expose Meg’s bare chest.

“Fuckin’ _hot!”_ Dean exclaims loudly, leaning back cockily and draping his arm around the back of Castiel’s chair.

Meg shimmies out of her shirt with a smirk and steps out of it before stalking directly towards Castiel, bending forwards slightly so her tits are right in his face. She sways back and forth, causing her taut breasts to wobble sinfully as she caresses her own inner thighs. He can already feel himself getting painfully hard and shifts uncomfortably. Meg must notice, because she puts her hands on his knees and pulls them apart - forcing his and Dean’s legs to press together from hip to knee. He tries to close them again but Dean’s hand grips his knee and holds it in place. He spares Dean a quick glance and sees Chastity copying Meg’s moves beside her, and looks back just in time to see Meg squat between his legs before she covers Dean’s hand with hers and slides Dean’s hand up his thigh while she does the same with her other hand all with a wicked gleam in her eye.

She pulls herself back up - Castiel is frozen in place when he realizes Dean doesn’t move his hand even without Meg’s prompting - and steps into the vee of his legs, close enough to his erection that he can feel her body heat through his jeans. She leans forward again to grip the back of his chair, once again putting her ample cleavage only inches from his face.

She lifts one hand to caress her breast and a breathy, “Jesus,” slips out before he can bite down on his bottom lip to shut himself up.

“Mmm you like that, angel?” Meg asks him, her voice low and husky.

“I know I do,” Dean says from beside him.

Castiel flicks his eyes to see Dean focused entirely on the two of them even though Chastity is dancing between his legs.

“You can’t tear your eyes off of him, can you, sweetie?” Chastity says.

Dean frowns, but his cheeks turn a beautiful pink color before he shrugs. “They’re hot together.”

Meg arches a brow and whispers, “Let’s see how hot we can make him.” Castiel darts his eyes over to Dean again, but that’s when Meg turns around, braces herself on the arms of his chair, and starts undulating her hips while she moves her ass closer and closer to his crotch.

“Put your hands on my hips, angel,” Meg urges him.

“Uh -” Castiel flounders. “The bouncer said -”

 _“I_ said put your hands on my hips,” Meg repeats with her voice firm.

Dean squeezes his inner thigh and Castiel feels his heart jackhammer in his chest when he realizes he somehow forgot about his hand burning like a brand on his leg. He lifts his hands and puts them on the curve of her hips, and before he can even react, she bends so her ass drags across his cock.

His jaw drops as he exhales all in a rush, and he can hear Dean react almost exactly the same way beside him.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” Chastity asks, her voice directly against his ear. Chastity's hands are on his chest again, dancing over his nipples, and somewhere deep inside his brain he realizes that if both girls are paying attention to him, nobody’s paying attention to Dean. He looks over at his best friend and sees him staring between him and the women with flushed cheeks and heavily lidded eyes.

“Feel good, Cas?” Dean repeats, rubbing the inside of Castiel’s leg and moving up about six inches towards his crotch. Dean’s voice is lower than usual, and Castiel is suddenly so fucking hard he feels like he’s going to burst.

Figuring this is the best chance he'll ever have at admitting his attraction to Dean with plausible deniability because of the circumstances, he purposely looks down at Dean’s hand on his leg and says, “Feels incredible.”

“You know, handsome, just because you can’t touch us doesn’t mean you can’t touch,” Meg says to Dean.

Dean glances at her for a split second before he seems to get it. He rubs his palm over his own erection and his eyelids flutter closed. “Fuck,” he gasps.

Castiel feels his heart in his throat at the most sexual thing he's ever seen Dean do.

 _“Dean,”_ he whimpers.

“Come here, handsome,” Meg says, suddenly stepping away from Castiel and pulling Dean to his feet. She positions him so that his back is to Castiel, she guides his hands onto the armrests like hers were, and then suddenly he’s got Dean’s ass dangerously close to his erection.

Dean looks at him over his shoulder with a cocky smile. “How do I look, Cas?”

He shoves his ass out further and for the first time with permission, Castiel takes in the sight of tight denim stretching deliciously around Dean’s luscious ass.

“Unbelievable,” Castiel answers honestly.

"Better than the girls?"

Castiel looks at Meg apologetically and she throws her head back and laughs. "Don't worry, angel, I know you've got a soft spot for freckles here."

Before he can respond, Chastity lifts Castiel’s hands and places them on Dean’s hips. Then Dean’s being pulled against him by Chastity’s hands on his shirt, and his hard cock is pressed firmly to the swell of Dean’s ass. He can hear Dean’s intake of breath even over the music and knows he’ll never forget the first gasp of pleasure _he_ caused Dean to take.

“Knew you’d like that,” Meg says to Dean. “With an ass like yours you’ve gotta be a bottom.”

“Grind that ass against your man, baby,” Chastity urges him. “You should see the way he’s looking at you.”

Dean grinds back against him, riding his clothed cock, and Castiel digs his fingers into his friend’s hips as he watches him roll his hips as expertly as the women have been. What the fuck is happening?

“Who’s gonna blow first, Chastity?” Meg asks.

“My money’s on Ken doll. He looks eager."

“You’re aching for his cock, aren’t you?” Meg asks Dean.

Dean answers with a groan that has Castiel's cock twitching in his pants.

“Time’s almost up. What do you say you give us a glimpse of how hot the two of you are in the bedroom?” Meg asks.

Castiel is so far beyond words at his point he can’t even answer to tell her they don't do _anything_ in the bedroom. Not together, at least. Dean turns around to face him and Castiel is struck stupid by the way his cock is an obvious hard line down the pant leg of his jeans.

“What do you say, Cas? Gonna give me a happy birthday kiss?” Dean asks.

Castiel has been dreaming about this moment for _years,_ and he’s way too drunk to even consider missing his chance. Before he can think any better of it, he fists his hand in Dean’s shirt and tugs him down so he can crash their lips together. They meet for the first time in a wet smush of four lips - way too eager and way too drunk to even really count - but then Dean’s straddling his lap. Dean's hands are in his hair tilting his head back, and Castiel gets two handfuls of his perfectly firm ass before Dean reclaims his mouth with a searing kiss that has his lips parting eagerly for more. Dean’s tongue sweeps past his lips and into his mouth, and Castiel groans when he feels himself sink into the best kiss of his life. Dean’s an incredibly sensual kisser, changing between teasing his tongue with his own, nipping at his lips and flicking his tongue across his so smoothly Castiel can hardly keep up with the flood of arousal rushing through his body.

The music stops suddenly, and Dean pulls away with a wet pop. His lips are glistening with spit, his cheeks are red, and his broad shoulders are rising and falling heavily with each labored breath, and Castiel has never wanted _anything_ as much as he wants Dean in this moment.

“Holy shit,” Meg grins, fanning herself. “That was even hotter than I thought it’d be.”

“Yeah, me too,” Dean answers, slightly breathless. “Wanna get outta here?” he says to Castiel.

Castiel nods eagerly. Dean pulls him to his feet and drags him out of the room without another word to either of the girls.

They’re halfway down the hallway when suddenly Dean leans back against the wall and pulls Castiel towards him roughly. He gets a hand on the back of Castiel’s neck and tugs him down to ravish his mouth all over again. Not wanting to be outdone, Castiel takes control. He nudges Dean’s legs apart with his foot and slots his thigh in between with his cock now firmly against Dean’s hip. As he thrusts his tongue in and out of Dean’s mouth, he grinds against him while Dean’s hands move all over his back, clutching at him and rolling his hips desperately against Castiel’s.

Dean breaks the seal of their lips to gasp for air and Castiel takes the opportunity to nip along the strong jawline he’s been fantasizing about for years.

“Fuck I want you,” Dean gasps, rutting even harder. “Don’t wanna wait anymore. Make me come, Cas. Please.”

Castiel groans against his skin. “Here?”

Dean tilts his head back, letting him move his lips along the column of his throat.

“Bathroom?” he counters.

 _“Now,”_ Castiel responds, and he wrenches himself away to make a beeline for the men’s room.

He walks inside with Dean hot on his heels, and even though there’s another man at the urinal, Castiel drags his palm over his erection and moans at the friction he so desperately needs.

“Unless you wanna watch me swallow this guy’s cock, I suggest you hightail it outta here,” Dean says to the guy at the urinal, batting Castiel’s hands away and working on unbuckling his belt while he catches his lips in another passionate kiss.

Castiel barely hears the guy complain, “This is a public bathroom!” because Dean pops the button of Castiel’s fly and drags his thumb down the hot line of his erection as he lowers his zipper. He hears the guy rip paper towels off of the roll and his laughter breaks the kiss when he opens his eyes to see the guy go running out of the room with his pants still undone.

Dean moves away to lock the door behind him, also chuckling, and Castiel drags a hand through his hair. “This is insane.”

“Don’t even think of backing out now,” Dean says, turning to face him again. “Been throwin’ myself at you all night and it finally took a stripper to get you to touch me. You ain’t stopping now after all that.”

 _“_ _You what?”_ Castiel repeats.

“Come on, man. You can’t be that naive.”

Castiel tilts his head in confusion.

“Okay, wow. Here’s a pointer for you,” Dean says, approaching him again. “When a dude you know is a little gay presses his leg up against yours -” Dean pushes Castiel up against the wall in the bathroom, slotting their legs together again. “- leans in real close to talk into your ear -” He feels Dean’s breath damp and warm on the shell of his ear before he tugs it between his teeth. “- slings arm around your chair, and puts his hands right here -” Dean runs two big hands from his knees up to the inside of his thigh, making Castiel buck forwards for friction. “There's a good chance he wants to get fucked so bad he’s willing to do it in a bathroom.”

Knowing now that Dean wasn’t doing all of that mindlessly, that he was _trying_ to turn him on and get him to make a move, causes any remaining shred of control he was holding on to vanish instantly.

He spins them around, turns Dean until he’s facing the wall, and latches onto his neck while he opens his fly and pushes his jeans and boxers down.

“Fuck, yes,” Dean gasps, already pressing his ass back towards him asking for more. Castiel grips his firm asscheek in his hand and squeezes, loving the give of his soft flesh beneath his palm. “Mark me up, Cas.”

Knowing he likely doesn’t have time to drag this out the way he’d like to, he lets his fingers drift towards his asscrack and moans when he feels a thick plug nestled between his cheeks. He fingers it, testing how slick he is by giving it a slight tug and humming his approval when it moves in and out easily.

“How long have you had this in?” Castiel asks.

“Did it just before we left,” Dean answers, his voice tight.

“Are you sore?” he checks.

“Nah, not really. Just want you.”

Castiel twists the plug and shoves it further in. “Condom?”

“P-pocket, _fuck,”_ Dean gasps. “Hurry up before they come unlock the door.”

Castiel fumbles through Dean’s pocket, his hands trembling with his eagerness, and finds a lubricated condom waiting for him. He rolls it onto his aching cock and pulls the plug out of Dean’s core gently before dropping it on the floor and sliding his cock along his asscrack, nudging at his hole.

“Oh fuck, just do it,” Dean begs, tilting his head back onto Castiel’s shoulder.

Needing to check for himself that he’s sufficiently stretched, he shoves two fingers inside of him and kisses him soundly to swallow Dean’s moan. Now knowing that he’s ready to take him, he takes a minute to searche around until he finds Dean’s sweet spot and strokes it with his fingertips until Dean’s panting too hard to maintain their kiss.

“Cas, c’mon,” Dean whines. “Fuck me.”

His words send fire through Castiel’s veins, and he tugs him by the hips to get his ass at the right height before he lines himself up. “Are you sure?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? COME ON!” Dean growls.

Castiel thrusts into him once hard, popping past the first ring of muscle and pushing deep inside, instantly overwhelmed with the tight heat engulfing his cock. They make dual sounds of pleasure as he sinks the rest of the way in, and Castiel strokes up Dean’s back soothingly until he relaxes around him.

“‘M good,” Dean rasps. “Let's go.”

Castiel wraps an arm around his waist and takes Dean’s cock in hand. He’s so fucking hard, but his skin is soft, and _fuck_ he’s thick. “Jesus, Dean,” Castiel breathes.

Dean chuckles as his hand reaches behind him to rest on Castiel’s hip before he starts rotating his hips and taking Castiel’s cock for a ride. Dean’s cock moves in and out of the tunnel of his fist as he moves back and forth, and Castiel is mesmerized when he looks down to see where he’s buried inside of his best friend while his ass gyrates like a fucking porn star. The sight of his cock disappearing around Dean’s puffy, wet hole, along with the dance of Dean’s back muscles is the hottest thing he’s ever seen, and he  _snaps._

His spinning head can think of nothing but fucking Dean hard and fast, and he pulls out just to slam back inside of him. Dean lurches forwards in surprise, almost hitting his face on the wall, but he makes a high-pitched sound of pleasure that has arousal spiking inside of him. Dean braces himself on the wall by his elbows and pushes his ass out again, and Castiel takes the invitation to start pounding into him.

“Cas! _Fuck yes._ Oh god,” Dean gasps.

Castiel swipes his thumb over Dean’s cockhead and starts matching the pumping of his fist to the thrusts of his hips. Dean’s head lolls back even further and Castiel goes back to sucking mark after mark on his skin while Dean babbles.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dean chants with every stroke. “Fucking me so good, Cas. Fuck you feel good. Filling me up so damn perfect.” Castiel hums against his skin, trying in vain to fight back his building arousal. He’s been so turned on for so long he knows this isn’t going to last long, and he’s torn between wanting to come fast and hard and wanting to fuck Dean’s orgasm right out of him.

He slick sounds of Dean’s cock sliding in his hand aided by the lube from the condom, the slap of his skin against Dean’s, and both of their sounds of pleasure all combine and echo in the bathroom. Dean’s skin tastes salty, his body is damp with sweat, and all Castiel can smell is the tell tale scent of sex mixed with lube and the unmistakable scent of Dean.

“Harder,” Dean urges him.

Castiel drives into him deeper, harder, and picks up the pace even more. He throws his own head back with pleasure as he fucks into Dean like a wild man, eyes squeezed closed and now completely lost in the thrill of chasing his pleasure as the delicious feeling of his impending orgasm mounts and mounts with every thrust.

 _“Dean,”_ Castiel breathes.

 _“Cas,”_ Dean groans in response.

“I’m - I’m going to -”

“Mmmm,” Dean cuts him off with a moan. “Gonna come, Cas?”

Castiel can’t think of anything except for how fucking good this feels. He’s breathing too hard to answer, his thighs are burning, and his cock is throbbing with the promise of release.

Dean starts pushing backwards, slamming his hips back to meet each of Castiel’s thrusts, skin slapping against skin slippery with sweat. His hand tightens on Dean’s hip as he feels his body start to lock up.

There’s a knock on the door and a, “Hello? Is anybody in there?”

“Don’t stop,” Dean begs him. “Please, fuck, I’m so close. Don’t you stop.”

Castiel grits his teeth and digs his blunt fingernails into Dean’s skin as he tries to hold on. He tilts his hips a tiny bit in an attempt to hit his prostate, and the mewl that comes out of Dean is enough to let him know he hit his mark. He only plunges into him twice more before he feels Dean’s ass clench tight, sending him flying over the edge into his orgasm. His body goes rigid as his cock pulses with each wave of release that he empties into the condom. He lets out a long, guttural moan as he hooks his neck over Dean’s shoulder and fucks his way lazily through the best orgasm of his life as Dean continues to contract around him.

He hears Dean call his name with a broken cry, and when he comes back down, he realizes his fingers are covered in cum. He opens his eyes to see Dean’s fingers are threaded between his where they’re still wrapped around his cock, and he sees thick white ropes of cum all over both of their hands and the wall in front of him.

His cock twitches still buried inside of Dean at how fucking dirty it all is, and he whimpers when the over-stimulation hits him.

“Holy shit,” Dean pants.

_“Hello?”_

“One second!” Dean yells.

“Fuck,” Castiel curses, wrapping his fingers around the base of the condom before pulling out gently. Dean starts chuckling as he pulls his pants up and grabs some paper towel to wipe off his hands and the wall. Castiel ties off the condom and drops it on the ground to pull his own pants up, then hurries over to open the door while Dean continues to wash his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” Castiel says to the redheaded waitress who served them earlier. “I don’t know how this got locked from the inside," he lies, using his big blue eyes to help him look as innocent as possible.

She arches her eyebrows and crosses her arms, looking extremely unimpressed.

Dean waltzes up behind Castiel and wraps his arms around him, nuzzling into his neck. “Well I don’t know about you, but I feel a hell of a lot better now than I did before," Dean says. Castiel presses his lips into a tight line, trying not to laugh at the antics of his best friend.

“You know public sex is against the law,” the waitress says.

Dean snorts. “Get your head outta the gutter lady. Or actually, poke your head in a little further and you’ll get a whiff letting you know I ain’t talkin’ about sex.”

Castiel can’t help the snort that escapes him when the lady looks scandalized by the implication, and when Dean ducks around him and pulls him towards the exit, he goes along without question.

They both erupt with laughter as they burst through the club’s doors and onto the sidewalk, and it isn’t until they’ve caught their breath that Castiel realizes they’re holding hands.

Dean must notice the way his body tenses, because he knocks into him with his shoulder. “So since it took a stripper to get you to kiss me for the first time, am I gonna need a hooker or somethin' to get you to ask me out after this?”

Castiel turns quickly to face him. “You really want to go out with me?”

“Well, I mean, I already know I like you,” Dean says with a shrug. “You’re equal parts hilarious and as annoyingly smart at Sammy. Now that I know you can fuck like that, I figure you’re pretty much the whole package. Might as well make a move while I got a shot.”

Castiel feels his face split on a smile before he schools it into a more serious expression. Stealing Dean’s words from earlier, he replies, “As long as I can get hammered first, you’re on.”

Dean mutters, “You fucker,” and pushes him roughly into the wall of the building next to him before he captures his lips in another passionate kiss. Something melts inside of him and _he knows_ this thing between them is going to be special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking prompts for "C is for..."


	3. C is for Cowboy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tags:**
> 
> \- canon verse  
> \- Dean/Cas first time  
> \- Top!Dean/Bottom!Cas  
> \- Dean has a cowboy kink  
> \- Map table sex  
> \- Grace as lube (just go with it)  
> \- Porn with plot  
> \- Porn with feelings  
> \- Misha’s nipple freckle  
> \- Appropriate clavicle appreciation  
> \- Castiel’s dom brow

He and Sam were doing a supply run at the local Target a couple of weeks ago when Jack stopped in the middle of the aisle and cocked his head to the side exactly the same way Cas does.

“Why are there costumes?” Jack asks.

“Halloween,” Dean answers.

“Halloween,” Jack repeats. “People wear costumes on halloween.”

“Kids mostly,” Sam explains. “Kids put on costumes and go door-to-door saying _trick or treat_ so people give them candy.”

“Sometimes stuffed with razors,” Dean says under his breath, earning himself a glare from Sam.

Jack’s face lights up with excitement though. “Candy sounds fun! Can we go?”

Dean raises his eyebrows and looks away, letting Sam know he’s not touching this with a ten-foot pole. “It’s actually just for kids,” Sam tells Jack, his voice soft the way it so often is when he talks to him. “Anything over twelve is kinda pushing it.”

Jack’s excitement hasn’t waned at all. “That’s great! I haven’t even had my first birthday yet!” He takes a few steps towards the costumes. “Which one -” Then he stops himself and visibly deflates. “I should wait for Castiel to help choose my costume. This is one of those important moments he’d want to be here for.”

Sam and Dean exchange glances and it’s Dean who decides to throw Cas under the bus. Better him than them. “Y’know what? You’re probably right. Let’s leave this for you and Cas.”

That’d been stupid, Dean thinks now. Even though Sam and Dean had warned Cas there was a good chance people wouldn’t give an adult candy, Cas had insisted that Jack _wasn’t_ an adult, and that if he was dressed appropriately he was sure that people would treat him accordingly. Dean wasn’t so sure, but he knew it was pointless to argue with Cas when his mind’s made up. Sending Dumb and Dumber (when it came to humans, anyway) out there alone on Halloween of all nights was basically asking for trouble, and since Sam took off to Jody’s yesterday to work on some geeky computer thing with Alex that’s totally over his head, it fell on him to be the chaperone tonight.

He laughs a little at the thought. Him, in charge of a rebellious angel and his kinda-sorta half-angel son. Should be a great time, he thinks sarcastically as he places the cowboy hat on his head. Despite his reluctance over this whole thing, he still can’t help but smirk at his reflection. In a pair of jeans that fit him like a glove and genuine leather cowboy boots, a white shirt with green checkers on it (undone a bit at the collar for appearance’s sake), and a black vest complete with fringe he may have had stashed in the back of his closet for occasions such as these, he’d say he makes one hell of a cowboy.

Especially last minute.

So, with his pillowcase in hand as a makeshift loot bag, he opens his bedroom door and walks into the kitchen to wait for Cas and Jack.

He doesn’t have to wait long. He hears what is unmistakably the sound of a bell, and he’s frowning in confusion when Jack comes around the corner with a huge ass smile on his face. He’s dressed in a cow costume, complete with a large pink udder covering his crotch, and a small pumpkin shaped bucket for candy in his hand. Dean can’t help the laugh that escapes him, and Jack’s smile only spreads bigger and brighter.

“Holy shit,” Dean chuckles, finally starting to sober up.

“Holy _cow,”_ Jack corrects. “Which is actually fitting, considering I’m half angel. _Holy_ cow, get it?”

“Shit, kid,” Dean laughs again. “You look great,” he says, still grinning. “I gotta ask though. All the costumes out there and you go with a cow? Why?”

“Technically, seeing as I’m a male, I’m a bull, not a cow. But cows _are_ fascinating!” Jack answers.

Dean doesn’t really care. Just seeing this kid in a full cow costume without an ounce of embarrassment is enough for him. “If you say so, buddy. Lemme get a picture of you to send to Sam.”

“Honestly, Dean! Listen, did you know cows can’t vomit?”

Dean grimaces. “Really?”

“Really! And their spots? No two cows have exactly the same pattern of spots. They’re like fingerprints for people.”

“No shit. Say cheese - ha! Cheese, cow, get it?” Dean laughs.

Jack’s face splits on a huge smile and Dean snaps the picture, still laughing as he sends it to Sam. He’s sure he’s gonna get a kick out of it. Hell, maybe he’ll tell Sam to print it and put it up somewhere. It’s fuckin’ hilarious.

“Are you ready to go?” Cas asks, walking into the kitchen behind Jack. Dean looks up from his phone and damn near drops it. “Hey, we match!” Cas says happily.

Dean works to swallow down the lump that’s suddenly in his throat. He knows he shouldn’t indulge himself, but he can’t help the way his eyes drag slowly down Castiel’s body from head to foot. _Jesus fucking Christ._ Cas is dressed like a cowboy, too, and if he thought he looked hot as fuck when he was in his usual trench coat and that cheap hat back in Dodge City, that was _nothing_ compared to this.

He’s in a navy blue shirt with decorative, white stitching across his frankly distractingly broad chest and a bolo tie that has Dean’s mouth filling with saliva. His eyes keep drifting down to the large oval belt buckle that keeps dragging his eyes to Cas’s crotch in a way that’s gonna be a major problem, and he has to bite back a whimper when he sees the holster hanging at his hip. He’s wearing light wash jeans Dean’s never seen before that are _straining_ to keep his thick thighs in check, and black cowboy boots to match his hat complete with what looks like - Cas shifts his weight from foot to foot, and, _fuck,_ yep - actual spurs. He’s always had a thing for cowboys, he’s been _trying_ not to have a thing for Cas for years, and now the two things are combining right before his eyes in the real-life role-play porno flick he’d secretly fantasized about but never thought he’d actually get.

“Get it, Dean? I’m a cow and he’s a cowboy!” Jack says excitedly.

He has to fight down the urge to throw Cas a saucy wink and give him a line about showing him how well a real cowboy can ride because the damn kid is here. And because it’s _Cas._ He shoots Jack a weak smile in answer to what he said, but it fades as soon as Cas talks.

“Howdy, partner,” Cas drawls, and Dean can feel a flush work itself all the way to the tips of his ears when his cock begins to thicken from the combination of Castiel’s low, gritty voice and the dude looking like sin on legs. He clears his throat like an idiot and forces his eyes away before he goes full wood in the middle of the frigging kitchen.

“Thought you were a bull,” Dean manages to say to Jack.

“Then I guess I’m technically a bullboy,” Cas jokes with a grin on his face, and Jack laughs even though it wasn’t funny. Dean shakes his head at Cas’s sporadic sense of humor and grabs his keys off the counter.

“We good, or does somebody need to milk him before we go?” Dean asks.

“It’s not a real udder,” Jack says seriously, and Dean shakes his head once more before he starts up the stairs towards the garage. It’s gonna be one hell of a night.

“He was joking,” he can hear Cas say behind him. “He knows you’re not a real cow.”

“Oh. I almost never pick up on jokes. I don’t know why,” Jack says.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll catch on eventually. Dean’s rarely serious if he can help it. He has an incredibly sharp yet immature sense of humor, so I would be on the lookout for plenty of jokes about your exposed nipples for the rest of the evening.”

Dean can’t _not_ chuckle at that, and he’s pretty damn pleased with himself knowing that Cas thinks he’s funny. It’s not like he laughs at his jokes or anything, so this is the first he’s heard of it. His head turns in surprise when Cas pulls open the passenger door. For some reason he’d been expecting him to get in the back as usual, but it makes sense for him to ride shotgun considering Sam isn’t here. They both have to take off their hats to fit in the car, and Dean’s eyes take in the crazy haphazard mop of dark hair on Cas’s head. It’s not styled the way he usually has it these days, and it kind of reminds him of when they first met and Cas’s hair had been all over the damn place. That’d been _a look,_ Dean thinks absentmindedly, pursing his lips.

“Dean,” Castiel says, dragging his mind back to the present.

“Sorry. Got distracted by the bird’s nest on your head,” Dean lies, smiling a little so Cas knows he’s only teasing.

“Sex hair, right?” Cas says, deadly serious.

Dean blinks and clears his throat again. “What?”

Cas gestures to his hair. “Messy hair. That’s called sex hair, isn’t it?”

Dean cricks his neck and adjusts the rear-view mirror even though it’s perfect the way it is just so that his mind doesn’t linger on the idea of what it might feel like to drag his hands through that hair and earn the title for real. “Hat head for you. ‘Less you got somebody in your room I don’t know about.”

“Of course not,” Cas says easily.

“I’ll have ‘hat head’ when I take this costume off, as well,” Jack comments, and he can almost hear the air quotes in his tone of voice.

“Yeah,” Dean grins over his shoulder. “I bet.”

He backs up out of his parking spot and heads into town. Lebanon is a very small town, but there’s a couple neighborhoods with a bunch of houses close together, so that’s where he points his Baby. Hopefully, his recognizable car and some familiar faces will be enough to help people be more likely to give Jack some candy. He doesn’t want to think about the possibility of the kid getting all dressed up for his first Halloween  and having everybody shoot him down. He’s got a (mostly) full bag of candy in the trunk just in case, but he honestly hopes it doesn’t come to that.

The closer they get, the more kids they see on the sidewalks in costumes. Dean already has a grin on his face before Cas points out a tiny Batman with long, blonde hair curling down her back, and his smile only grows once he sees her. That’s freakin’ adorable. Then Jack points out a kid dressed as a poop emoji and he’s pretty sure he rolls his eyes harder than he ever has before. He finds an empty space on the side of the road and pulls the Impala into it.

“Ready, kid?” he asks Jack.

“I’m so excited!” Jack exclaims, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Remember what we talked about,” Cas says as they get out of the car. He places his hat back on top of his head and Dean licks his lips nervously. How the fuck is he going to make it through an hour of watching Cas walk around looking like that without popping a boner surrounded by little kids? This is a frigging nightmare. “Stay on the sidewalk and don’t forget your manners.”

“Not like a car could hurt him anyway,” Dean says to Cas.

“That’s not the point,” Cas says sternly, his already low voice harder than usual as he scolds him.

“Easy cowboy,” Dean says with a smirk, and Cas pins him with an unamused glare.

“Let’s go, Jack,” Cas says, and the two of them walk past him and down the sidewalk towards the first house. He snickers at the tail attached to Jack’s cow costume, but his attention is quickly diverted by the seductive curve of Castiel’s ass cheeks in tight denim. A glimpse at Castiel’s ass is rare in the first place considering how often his trench coat covers it, but a good look at it in jeans is almost unheard of. And it’s a goddamn _gift._

He has a bubble butt, Dean thinks as he tries not to imagine how great he’d look bent over the hood of his car.

Damn. Cas seriously has himself a set of nice, round, firm cheeks that the denim molds to with each step he takes, which is tantalizingly punctuated by the jingle of the spurs as he walks. Dean decides then and there that he’s gonna do whatever he can to make sure he’s a step behind them as often as possible tonight. He’s not likely to get an eyeful like this again anytime soon, and he’s gonna take advantage of it -  _savor_ it - for as long as he can.

“Alright, go ahead,” Cas says to Jack. “And don’t forget to say trick or treat.”

Jack nods, but doesn’t move.

“Need me to lead the way with some grass or somethin’?” Dean asks.

Jack looks between the two of them. “What if the person at the door says no? I know I don’t look like a child.”

“Then you say Happy Halloween and walk away. We talked about this,” Cas says quietly.

“Screw that,” Dean scoffs. “You’re dressed up in full cow costume. If they don’t give you candy, I say you stand there and moo at the top of your lungs until they do.”

 _“Dean,”_ Castiel scolds him.

“Happy Halloween,” Jack repeats, seemingly completely ignoring Dean. “Okay. Got it.”

“Good luck,” Cas says. Jack takes several steps towards the house before Cas says, “Maybe I should go with him.”

“I don’t think another grown man in costume is gonna help his case,” Dean says. Cas is still frowning though, so Dean knocks into his shoulder gently to get him to look at him. “He’s a good kid. People like him. Try not to worry so much.”

Cas makes a sound low in his throat but looks away again. “He’s already been through so much. I don’t want to see him disappointed more than he already has been.”

“I got a bag full of candy in the trunk,” Dean admits. “Shit ton of nougat. Just in case.”

That makes Cas look back at him. “You do?”

“Didn’t want the kid to go home empty-handed if people were dicks,” Dean shrugs.

Cas’s eyes go all soft and Dean feels himself pulled into them the way he always is. He’s pretty sure he could stare into them for days and still not get used to how fuckin’ blue they are. Hell, it’s been ten years and he hasn’t been able to stop staring at them yet. “Thank you, Dean.”

The way Cas looks at him? _Shit_. He doesn’t look at anybody else like this. Dean knows that for damn sure because he’s tried to see it. But it’s only him. As usual, it leaves him feeling too warm and just on the good side of panicked, but he still can’t look away. Thankfully there’s nobody around to notice right now, so he indulges himself and keeps eye contact while he can. He’s all-too aware of how hard his heart is pounding in his chest, how he and Cas have somehow moved close enough to each other that he can feel the heat coming from his body, and finally, his eyes drop away from Castiel’s - but only so he can look at his lips.

If there’s anything more tempting than the sky blue of Castiel’s eyes, it’s his lips. Pink and plump, painted with these tiny little vertical lines Dean’s daydreamed about wetting with his tongue more times than he can count. Fuck he wants to taste him. Wants to feel the way he knows his lips would yield to the press of his, how his perpetual five o’clock shadow would scrape his skin, and the exact moment the rigid set of Cas’s wide shoulders would relax when Dean takes his breath away with a kiss that he’s sure would change everything forever.

He looks away quickly, ducking his head and trying to get his shit back together. That’s exactly why he can’t kiss him. He’s so fucking gone on the guy that he knows he’d never be able to take anything less than forever and he can’t even let himself entertain how badly he wants it because it fucking _hurts_ every second he’s without it. But Cas is an angel. He belongs with angels. Him and Sam are barely even a blip on the inconceivable timeline of Castiel’s life, and he needs to remember that.

“I got chocolate!” Jack says, jarring Dean out of his thoughts with the excitement in his voice. “Can I go to the next house?”

“We’re right behind you,” Cas tells him, with a small quirk of his lips that counts as smile for him. And so they start their trek from house to house, standing back on the sidewalk as Jack wanders down driveway after driveway, going door-to-door and steadily filling the tiny pumpkin in his hand. Once it’s filled, Jack tips it into the pillow case Dean’s holding, and then he goes back for more.

Cas is a constant distraction every time he freakin’ moves, and though his dick is plump and heavy in his pants pretty much non-stop, he’s managed to ignore it for the most part. Thankfully, Jack is an excellent distraction.

“Hey Dean,” Jack says between houses. “Did you know cows can see almost 360 degrees? Of course, they can’t see particularly well directly in front of them, but that’s why they turn their heads to look at people all the time.”

“They’re also very social creatures,” Cas adds, as if having a conversation about cows is totally normal. “They dislike being alone, so a cow seeking solitude is often a clue that they’re unwell.”

“Kind of like you, huh, Castiel?” Jack asks.

“Well, I don’t get sick, but it’s true I dislike being alone.”

“I didn’t know that,” Dean comments.

Cas shrugs stiffly. “It’s not important.”

 _Important enough to mention it to Jack, though,_ Dean thinks. “You take off on your own all the time,” Dean says.

“Only because it’s necessary, not because I want to.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dean wonders.

“You carry more than your share of worry already, Dean. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Dean scoffs and his hand moves to give him a little rub between his shoulders before he can stop himself. “You’re not a burden, Cas, come on.”

“‘scuse me! Mister Cow?” a tiny voice says from behind them.

They all turn around to see a little girl in a pink frilly dress with a crown on her head.

“Hello!” Jack says, lifting one hand in his signature wave.

“Look!” the little girls, pointing at the two men behind her holding hands and giggling with delight. “We both have two daddies!”

Dean presses his lips into a tight line, embarrassment and unease at how to deal with this kid flooding him so fast he feels a little lightheaded.

“That’s so cool!” Jack answers, the agreement making Dean's eyes bulge.

“Nice night for trick-or-treating,” one the men says to them with a smile.

“It’s a beautiful evening for our first Halloween with Jack,” Cas says, smiling proudly like this is totally fine.

“This is my first time trick-or-treating,” Jack says to the little girl.

Dean sees sadness flicker across the faces of the men in front of him and realizes they must think he and Cas adopted him or something and whoever he was with before never took him as a child.

“He’s lucky to have you,” one of them says, and Cas’s chest puffs out like a proud peacock.

“Better late than never,” the other says.

Dean’s stomach is twisting uncomfortably and he knows he needs to get them the hell outta this situation. “Nice meeting you guys. Let’s go to the next house, huh?” Dean suggests.

“Wait! Jack! Do your daddies kiss allllll the time like mine?” she asks, giggling again.

Jack has that Cas-like frown on his face. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You’re so lucky! Kissing is  _so_ _yucky!”_ she laughs with her nose scrunched up.

“Hopefully she keeps thinking that for another twenty years,” one of the guys laughs.

“Let’s go, Jack,” Dean says more firmly, and he turns on his heel to start walking towards the next house and as far away from that conversation as he possibly can. He can hear the low rumble of Castiel’s voice and Jack’s goodbye, then Castiel’s spurs come clanking behind him so he knows he’s catching up.

Jack heads down the next driveway and Dean looks over his shoulder to make sure the little kid and her dads aren’t coming behind them. They’ve crossed the street, so he thinks they’re safe for now. Cas has obviously picked up on how uncomfortable Dean’s feeling, because he doesn’t say anything. He wonders how Cas felt about all that, but is too chicken shit to bring it up and find out, so he does what he usually does and pretends it never happened at all.

If Dean Winchester is good at anything, it’s repressing feelings.

So it’s all fine and dandy right up until Jack comes back and asks, “Why _don’t_ I ever see you kissing?”

Dean trips over a crack in the sidewalk in his surprise, but Cas’s hand catches him under the elbow and steadies him, which only causes Dean’s face to flush more deeply with embarrassment.

“We are both father figures to you - and Sam is, too, I hope - but Dean and I are not... in a romantic relationship at the moment,” Cas explains. “We’re not like the gay couple we just met.”

Dean’s sure his heart stops beating the second he hears _at the moment_ and then goes into overdrive hearing Cas say _gay._

“But you love each other like they do,” Jack says, that pinch back between his eyebrows again. “That’s why I brought you back,” Jack says to Cas. “For Dean _because_ of how much he loves you. He was miserable without you.” Dean’s suddenly boiling hot and he can’t find his voice. The words to deny what Jack is saying are stuck in his throat, mostly because he can’t even deny it. “Can’t you feel it?”

This time it’s Castiel who looks all kinds of uncomfortable. His voice is quieter, as if he thinks that low voice of his doesn’t carry no matter how softly he tries to speak. “People don’t like it when we read their minds or the emotions they project unknowingly, Jack. It isn’t polite.”

Jack’s eyes go wide with understanding. “So we’re supposed to pretend like we don’t know?”

“Until they tell us, yes.”

_What the fuck?_

Cas knows that he - that he’s - _Cas knows?_ And he’s what? Waiting for Dean to tell him?

“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to be rude,” Jack says solemnly, and without his voice, all Dean can do is nod and avoid looking at Cas at all costs. Jack smiles brightly again and heads off down the next driveway, leaving him and Cas in what is definitely the most awkward silence of his entire life. It seems to take for fucking ever for Jack to get his candy from the old lady at the door, but when he comes back, he says, “Hey, Dean? Did you know that cows jump when they get excited?”

And that’s weird enough that Dean has to comment. "There's no way."

“I watched a video on YouTube of cows trying to solve how to get through a closed door to get their food, and some of them were so excited when they figured it out they jumped in the air!”

“You’re gonna have to send that to me, kid, ‘cause I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cow jump,” Dean says, feeling more at ease now that he’s on even footing again. He doesn't miss the warm smile he gets from Cas for humoring Jack, but tries not to think about the way it makes his own smile linger on his lips.

The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, and by the time Jack’s filled and dumped his candy bucket three times, Cas calls it a night. Cas asks Dean to take a photo of him and Jack together when they get back to the Impala, which prompts Jack to ask for one of him and Dean after that, and then some well-meaning stranger offers to take a photo of the three of them. Dean fakes a smile and is wishing for the ground to swallow him whole when the woman hands him his phone back and tells them what a beautiful family they make.

This kinda shit never would’ve happened ten years ago, Dean thinks bitterly as he climbs into the car. It’s a quiet drive home, filled only with the music of Led Zeppelin and Jack munching on his candy in the back seat until they pull into the garage. After attacking them both with an enthusiastic hug, Jack bids them goodnight and takes off for his room.

Dean’s eyes bulge out of his head as he walks around the car and sees candy wrappers littering the backseat, but before he can even raise his voice to call Jack back Cas says, “I’ve got them.”

“Cas, he can’t just leave garbage in the back of my car, man.”

“I know. I’ll talk to him,” Cas promises, bending over to reach into the car. He starts gathering the wrappers dutifully, completely unaware of how Dean’s eyes are trained to the way his hips shift back and forth with each movement. His jeans are pulled tight over the roundness of his ass cheeks, his spurs are jingling, and the front of _Dean’s_ jeans are suddenly a hell of a lot tighter. He jolts and looks at the concrete floor guiltily when Cas straightens up and nudges the car door closed with a bump of his hip. “Can you get the door?” Cas asks, nodding to the door leading to the bunker.

Considering he’s got his hands full, Dean steps forward to pull it open for Cas to walk through. They descend the stairs in silence, the clunking of old pipes and whir of the lights the only sounds in the air around them. Cas walks straight into the map room, but since he’s feeling the familiar itch of arousal uncomfortable between his shoulders (not to mention between his legs) he walks to the fridge and grabs a beer. He cracks it open on the way back to join Cas, immediately downing half the can in one go once he gets there.

He looks up again at the crinkle of a wrapper. Cas has unwrapped a sucker and is leaning back against the map table, his hips cocked forwards with his belt buckle reflecting the fluorescent lights and his cowboy hat casting a dark shadow across the top half of his face. Cas looks at the sucker curiously for a second before he wets his pink lips with a swipe of his tongue and pops it in his mouth with a frown on his face. Dean’s completely unable to look at anything other than the way his cheeks flex each time he sucks on the candy to taste it. He can see that his tongue is moving over the sweet candy in his mouth, and he’s hyper aware of the way his dark blue shirt is stretched over his bicep while he holds the sucker in his mouth.

Dean’s put his beer down and is already moving towards him without even having fully decided to do so when Cas sucks the candy between his lips and pops it out with a wet smacking sound that shoots sparks of desire through his body to pool low in his stomach.

“What is this supposed to taste like?” Cas asks curiously, but then he licks his lips lavishly and Dean _snaps._

“I dunno, but I wanna find out,” Dean growls, and then he’s got one hand on the back of Castiel’s neck, pulling him in until their lips crash together, and finally - fucking _finally_ \- they’re kissing. He barely registers the smack of the sucker as it lands on the floor and breaks into tiny pieces, because the second their lips touch it’s like electricity surges through his entire body. His hat falls off of his head and onto the table when Cas’s arms wind around his middle, Cas’s hands landing between Dean’s shoulder blades where he grips onto him to hold him in place.

Cas’s lips are twice as soft as he guessed they might be and a million times hotter. He’d thought about this moment in painstaking detail hundreds of times, and still, he never dreamed it would be this good. He imagined Cas might be shy or tentative the first time they kissed, but he’s the total opposite. His lips are scalding against his, just as hungry and eager as Dean’s are, and when Dean prods the seam of them for access to the inside of his mouth, Cas opens instantly.

Their tongues meet halfway in the middle and a hit of the sweet cherry flavor floods his senses before it fades away to Cas. Just Cas. Spicy and sharp and so damn good Dean licks deeper into his mouth with a groan, his hand sliding up so his fingers can bury themselves into his hair the way he’s fantasized about doing for the last five years.

Teeth dig into lips, stubble scrapes together, and a symphony of pleasure-filled sounds echo around them as they clutch at one another frantically. This is the culmination of ten damn years of repressed sexual tension and it’s got him hard as freakin’ steel in his jeans already. Adrenaline and arousal are racing through his veins, his fingers tighten around the silky locks of Cas’s hair, and he leans forwards, pinning Cas to the table with his hips. He feels Cas’s answering hardness against his pelvis and it’s Cas who breaks the seal of their lips when he exhales heavily. Dean’s nowhere close to being done with him yet, so he nudges Cas’s chin up and latches onto his skin, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath his lips while he blazes a trail along that sharp jaw back towards his ear. He breathes hot and warm against the shell of his ear and tugs the lobe between his teeth.

Cas tilts his head back in offering and Dean dives back in as he pushes him back further. Dean gets a glimpse of Cas’s fingers white on the edge of the table before his hands struggle to hold him up with Dean’s upper body leaning on his, and when he falls back onto his hands, Dean wraps his arms around his waist and hefts him up with a grunt. Sitting on the table has Cas looking down at him now, and Dean takes in the sight of Cas with his lips shiny with spit and his eyes darker than he’s ever seen them.

He feels like now would probably be a good time to say something. Ask if this is what Cas wants. Make sure Cas is into guys - into _him_ \- and ask if he’s gonna stick around after this goes down or if he’s gonna bail like he always does. But he also doesn’t want the answers to any of those questions if it’s going to stop what’s about to happen between them, so when Cas opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, Dean surges up to kiss him again instead. Cas is a couple inches higher up now that he’s sitting, but he still relinquishes control to him. Cas’s arms tangle around his neck, pulling him in nice and close so their firm chests bump and brush while Dean learns exactly how to curl his tongue to make Cas’s breath catch. Cas is totally pliant in his arms, allowing him to deepen the kiss when he wants to and to pull Cas’s mouth down to his neck when he craves more.

He gasps when Cas immediately starts sucking a hickey into his skin. Heat races through his veins as he thinks about how even if this doesn’t last, if he never gets this again, at least he’s gonna have a mark he can press his fingers into a few days.

He breaks the silence between them when Cas tries to move away. “Harder,” Dean urges him, holding his head in place with his fingers tight in his hair. “Make it last.”

Cas groans and redoubles his efforts, causing Dean’s dick to swell further between his legs. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” Cas admits when he pulls away, eyes glued to the bruise he just sucked into his skin.

The admission makes his cock pulse with want, and then he’s moving for a second time without consciously deciding to. This time, he cradles Cas’s head in his hands and gets a knee up between Cas’s legs on the edge of the table, then forces him onto his back so he can settle into the vee of his legs. Their cocks line up naturally, causing their mouths to slacken while dual sounds of pleasure escape them both, and this time, Dean’s entirely purposeful when he rolls his hips down to drag his cock against Cas’s.

They kiss passionately, fervently, as their hips continue to rock together. Cas’s hands dart over his back, down his sides, and over his chest and shoulders like he needs to touch all of him at once. Dean lets him explore, feeling his hands set fire to every inch they touch while he grinds against him, until eventually, Cas tugs his shirt free of his jeans. Then he has those warm, fucking _huge_ hands on his bare skin and just knowing that it’s _Cas_ who’s touching him like this draws a low sound from deep in his throat. Cas wrestles with Dean’s vest, pushing it over his shoulders until it falls off completely, then his fingers start working at the buttons closest to his neck. Dean never stops kissing him, pressing him into the table or moving his hips, and by the time Cas has his shirt undone enough to pull it up over his head Dean’s riding the edge of an oncoming orgasm while Cas is still fully dressed.

Cas must have the same realization about their clothing situation, because while Dean lifts his upper body to tear his shirt over his head, Cas grabs him around the waist and flips them over. Dean lands with a bang with his shirt only halfway over his head, the tools on top of the map table go skittering onto the floor, and Cas deadpans, “My apologies,” as he finally manages to get Dean’s shirt all the way off.

“Smooth,” Dean quips, amused at the Cas-speak even at a time like this, and Cas shoots daggers at him with his eyes.

“You’re the one trying to do this on the map table.”

“You tellin’ me you never thought about it before?” Dean grins, his fingers reluctantly working on loosening Cas’s bolo tie. He wishes he could leave it on but the desire to see his bare chest is stronger than his cowboy kink (for now).

“I doubt there’s a flat surface anywhere in this bunker I haven’t thought about doing this on.”

_“Fuck.”_

Castiel’s expression is carefully blank, but his eyes are burning into Dean’s while he opens his belt and then starts to lower his fly. Dean feels his breath catch as the teeth of the zipper part, and though Cas’s eyes are now giving a deer-in-headlights vibe, he’d swear his mouth twitches at one corner. The fucker knows exactly how bad Dean wants this, so giving into the overwhelming desire he feels to get him naked right the fuck now, he grips Cas’s shirt firmly in his hands and rips it apart. Buttons scatter across the table and along the floor, bouncing away as Cas pulls his cuffs over his wrists and drops it on the floor.

“That was the only other shirt I own,” Cas comments, but Dean can’t make his mouth work enough to get words out because Cas is fucking _gorgeous._ His perpetually tanned skin is dusted lightly with dark hair across his chest and down from his navel, his shoulders and arms are more muscular than he thought they’d be, and his stomach is nicely toned with a slightly soft center that makes him much less nervous about his own.

“You look damn good, Cas,” Dean admits.

Lust flashes in Cas’s eyes, and then it’s a flurry of movement while they work on getting each other’s pants off. It’s completely uncoordinated, and taking his boxers off results in Dean knocking his elbow so hard on the table at one point that his eyes water, but then Cas pulls off _his_ boxers and he gets his first glimpse at his thick cock and he barely even remembers he _has_ elbows.

Cas straddles his waist and sits back until his ass rests on Dean’s solid length. Dean knows he looks like a fish out of water with his jaw dropped open and his eyes wide as saucers. But _this is Cas_ straddling him like he’s going to -

“I believe the theme of the evening has been cowboys,” Cas says, lifting a single brow in a way that makes his cock twitch.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Dean manages, but that’s all he can get out because Cas’s long fingers are wrapping around his cock, holding him steady at the base, and his sensitive cockhead is bumping between his cheeks. “C-Cas, hold on, buddy.”

“Don’t call me _buddy_ when you’re about to penetrate me,” Cas growls with his teeth clenched together.

“Okay, okay,” Dean answers quickly, barely managing to stifle a laugh at _penetrate._ “I just - you’re kinda missing an important step here and we need lu-” Then he exhales on a high-pitched, breathy whimper when Cas sinks down a little bit and Dean’s cockhead slips easily between his surprisingly wet cheeks.

“I am an angel,” Cas reminds him, his voice already more breathless than usual. “I prepared myself with my grace.”

 _Oh fuck_ that’s hot. And so is Cas. And so is his ass as he lowers himself onto Dean’s cock inch by inch, engulfing him in the most unbelievably tight, silky wet sensation he’s ever felt. His hands fly to Cas’s hips, his bones sharp and fucking perfect against his palms, his eyes locking on to Cas’s cock bobbing slightly as he keeps lowering himself down until his ass is flush to his pelvis.

“Fuck I’ve wanted you,” Dean pants.

“The feeling has been mutual, I assure you,” Cas says, leaning forwards.

Dean props himself up on his elbows to take his lips in another kiss, and it’s almost blistering hot when he shoves his tongue back into his mouth for another hit of the quintessential flavor of Cas. Dean lets the fire Cas sets to his senses swallow him whole while Cas explores his mouth until Cas braces himself with one hand on Dean’s chest. A shadow falls over his face and he opens his eyes in confusion only to see Cas set Dean’s cowboy hat on top of his head with a smirk on his lips.

“Sweet Jesus,” Dean chokes out. “You are never going to top this.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Cas answers, and before Dean can do anything more than goggle at Cas for making a play on words about _fucking him_ of all things, he swivels his hips and grinds down on Dean’s cock, stealing his breath and any coherent response he might have come up with.

Both hands land on Dean’s chest for leverage now, and just when Dean’s starting to get used to the heat so snug around his cock, Cas switches it up and starts rocking instead. Cas’s weight on his hips and his hands on his chest is completely pinning him down, and Dean’s all kinds of into it. He’s taking control entirely and only allowing Dean’s cock to slide in and out of him the tiniest little bit. It feels damn good but nowhere close to the friction he needs or wants, so he takes the opportunity to catalog the enticing sight of Castiel’s massive thighs flexing with each roll of his hips, his toned stomach tensing, and his biceps bulging so he can sear each one into his brain for as long as he lives.

Dean’s hands itch to touch, so he runs his palms up and down Cas’s thick thighs, spurring Cas to tilt his head back for a heavy breath. God damn, the column of his throat is long and alluring, and Dean wants to mark it up with a hickey that matches his so everybody knows they were together. Suddenly, Cas lifts up until Dean’s cockhead tugs at his rim, drawing a similar gasp of breath from Dean before he sinks down and takes him all the way in again. It’s smooth and easy, each time their bodies come together impossibly better than the last, the passion between them quickly mounting and sending Dean to new and exciting heights he didn’t even know existed until now.

His thumbs skirt the inside of his legs while he drags his eyes up Cas’s chest, over the tiny freckle above his right nipple, before pausing to _ogle_ the tantalizing dip of his clavicle and prominent collarbone. The razor edge of his jaw, the scruff he’s now familiar with against his face, those pink lips still kiss-swollen but parted with pleasure now as he increases his pace to impale himself on Dean’s cock over and over.

All he can do is lie back and look his fill while Cas takes him for the ride of a lifetime. When his eyes lift to Cas’s, the bluest eyes he’s ever seen are still framed by his cowboy hat and looking down at him filled with a mixture of desire and so much affection plain in his gaze Dean can feel a rush of heat through his entire body. Cas looks so free, completely uninhibited and reckless while he rides him, and Dean swears to himself he’s gonna do whatever it takes to put this look of utter bliss onto Castiel’s again and again.

He loves him so much it hurts.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice cracks on the single syllable. Hearing him say his name that way sends a shiver down his spine and an arrow piercing through his heart the same it always does, but this time he’s acutely aware of what he and Jack were talking about before. Cas can feel that he loves him. He just said his name _like that_ because Dean was projecting it.

Dean licks his lips, fighting for the courage to say two words. They finally come out in a hoarse whisper even while Cas keeps working himself on his cock. “You know.”

“I know,” Cas confirms.

His heart’s doing this weird growing/sinking thing in his chest. Because Cas knows he loves him, and that’s almost as awesome as it is scary, but if he knows, why did he never...?

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Cas asks as he stills his hips for the first time. “I rebelled for you. I gave up an army for you. I ran into a battle against Lucifer with an angel blade knowing I would die just to keep you alive for another minute. I fought my way out of the Empty _for you,_ Dean. Of course I love you.”

Dean pushes himself up to wrap his arms around his shoulders, then rolls them swiftly but carefully until Cas is on his back underneath him. His hat falls off, but the soft yellow light of the map table is lit up below Cas, making it look like his skin is glowing like the angel he is.

“You’re everything,” Dean admits quietly, and this time when he leans down to kiss him, it’s soft. It’s heart achingly tender - the way he hasn’t kissed anybody for years - and he feels tears burning hot behind his lids when Cas’s big hands frame his face like he’s something special to him, too.

Wanting nothing more than to be closer to him in every way possible, he starts moving, pushing into him in a sensual and rhythmic pattern while their lips stay locked together. They kiss and kiss, not even stopping when Dean starts panting as heat pools low in his stomach. Castiel’s hands seem to be everywhere at once. They slide into his hair, slowly drift down to the back of his neck and further to his shoulders. He feels the cool pulse of grace spreading under his skin while Cas kneads his thumbs into his skin, massaging every bit of tension out of his body one inch at a time. His hips stutter when Cas paws down his spine with one hand settling possessively in the curve of his lower back as his other sweeps up and down his rib cage to grip at his hip.

Dean plunges into the welcoming heat of Cas over and over, Cas starting to squeeze around him to pull him back in each time he withdraws, making it increasingly difficult to want to do anything other than grind deep inside of him where he’s sure now he was supposed to be all along. Because he’d been right. Cas is it. _This_ is it. It's everything he’s been afraid of having for the last five years because the fear of losing it is so big it stifles him.

Cas breaks the seal of their lips, drawing a muffled complaint from Dean.

“Don’t make this needlessly complicated,” Cas rasps. “Nothing has been able to keep us apart so far, and nothing ever will.”

“I need you,” Dean confesses, a sharp breath falling from his lips when Castiel’s hands finally make their way to his ass, pulling him in hard and fast and urging him to maintain that pace.

“I’m yours, Dean,” Cas promises. “In every way.”

Dean bends to catch his lips again, desperate to be connected to him as entirely as he can be, unerringly familiar with the steady build of his impending orgasm. He doesn’t want this to be over yet. He’s wanted this for so damn long, dreamed about their first time for years, and now it’s almost over. Cas feels so fucking good that he doesn’t even consider stopping, though. He doesn’t want it to be over but he doesn’t want to stop because he’s about to come so damn hard deep inside of Cas and he’s almost desperate with how bad he wants it. He tries to hold himself up with one elbow so he can help Cas to get off, but the table is too hard under his elbow and he can’t hold himself up like this.

Cas solves their problem by wrapping those bulky thighs around his waist, causing his spine to curve and his cock to rub against Dean’s stomach. Dean shudders as he sinks in even deeper, making a sound of approval against Cas’s lips when he feels the tip of Cas’s cock gliding through the wetness between them, knowing how turned on Cas must be.

“Dean.”

Fuck,  _his voice._

Dean buries his face into Cas’s neck, licking and sucking at that one shallow slope of his clavicle he’d been so mesmerized by earlier. He lets his teeth catch on the skin pulled tight over collarbone, and when Cas says his name again, rough and gravelly, Dean locks onto that spot and works on sucking a bruise into his skin while he plows into him harder than ever.

 _“Oh,_ yes. _Dean,”_ Cas says again, and Dean moans when Cas’s fingers dig into his skin as his body begins to tighten beneath him. “Dean. Dean - please. _Dean, Dean, Dean.”_ Cas chants his name like a prayer with each thrust of Dean’s hips, the grit in his voice driving Dean closer and closer to the edge. Cas clenches hard around his dick, tearing a guttural groan from Dean’s throat when warmth floods between them. He pushes up enough to look down at Cas’s cock jerking as he spills in thick, white globs all over his stomach.

Dean tears his eyes away to look at the expression on Castiel’s face as Cas continues to spill over his own skin. He's boiling hot, his arousal coiling tight as a spring in his stomach, and his body taut with tension. His breath catches when he sees Cas’s eyes lit up with grace, the look of complete reverence written all over his face a million times more beautiful than he could have imagined. It’s that, combined with a perfectly timed clench around his cock and another sigh of his name from the shiny lips of his angel that has Dean burying himself to the hilt with one final, brutal thrust and coming with a strangled cry.

Cas pulls him down into a kiss, muffling his sound of pleasure with those plush lips and licking into his mouth to swallow his ragged breaths. He thrusts gently through the rest of his orgasm, feeling his release slicken Cas’s insides further, as Cas keeps kissing him until he’s absolutely breathless. When he finally has to pull away to breathe, he collapses in a heap, hiding his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck while he drags in the air he’s so desperate for.

Cas’s lips are on his shoulder, peppering gentle kisses over his skin in a dizzying contrast to his hands sweeping big and possessive arcs over his body. While a small part of him eats it up, the more his brain starts to come back online, the more he starts to freak out. What the fuck was he thinking, having sex with Cas? Fucking him on the _map table_ for god’s sake? How’s he gonna deal with it when Cas takes off again? When he goes off the grid for days at a time and he doesn’t know where he is or if he’s okay? If he’s with somebody else? If he started wishing he never did this?

“This doesn’t change anything,” Cas says suddenly. Dean only huffs against his skin. It changes fucking everything and he knows Cas knows it. “I’ll still be here with you as often as I can. I’ll come back at every opportunity and miss you every moment we’re apart. I’ll burn with jealousy anytime you touch someone else -”

“I won’t if you won’t,” Dean offers quickly, figuring he can solve two problems at once if Cas is up for it.

“That would make me very happy,” Cas sighs happily, kissing the top of his head and making Dean smile when he can feel his body relax under his. “I’ll still worry that you’re being stubborn and reckless. Doing too much, shouldering blame and burdens that don’t belong to you. Not taking care of yourself the way I wish you would.”

“And I’ll be swearing at your voicemail and cursing your name at two in the morning when I can’t sleep because I don’t know where the fuck you are and if you’re coming back.” He leaves the _to me_ unsaid.

“I’ll always come back.” Cas kisses his shoulder. “And I love when you do that. Praying to me with so much love buried under all of that profanity you’re so fond of in the middle of the night.”

Of fucking course Cas always heard that, Dean thinks, resigned that this is his life now.

“You’ve always been particularly loud with longing when it comes to me,” Cas answers like he can read his mind. “It makes it incredibly difficult not to react when you’re acting so gruff and angry but pining for me at the same time.”

“You’re being annoyingly smug right now,” Dean tells him.

“I’m _feeling_ considerably smug,” Cas admits, and if Dean didn’t know any better, he’d think it sounds like Cas is smiling. “It may have taken me ten years, a sucker, and a cowboy costume, but I got you to kiss me.”

Dean’s heart soars when the implications of what Cas just said sinks in. He did it all on purpose. He wanted this to happen. Cas played him like a goddamn fiddle, and he isn’t even sorry.

“Just think how long it’s gonna take to get rid of me,” Dean quips.

“I look forward to waiting you out,” Cas answers, and Dean can’t help but grin when he thinks about all the things he wants to do with him.

Driving in the Impala with on hand on the wheel and one hand tangled with Cas’s. Cas slipping into his bed in the middle of the night and pulling Dean into his arms. Yelling at Cas after he does something to sacrifice himself for him, Sam, and Jack  _again._ Kissing Cas in the kitchen, in his bed, in the car, under every sprig of mistletoe he can find, up against the wall in the middle of another argument, first thing in the morning, every time he sees him for as long as he’s allowed...

“Always,” Cas says, answering the unasked question exactly the way he wanted him to.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean agrees, his heart in his throat. _Always_ sounds pretty damn good to him. Then his lips curve into a smirk when he adds, “As long as you wear that costume again.”

Cas’s breath is warm on his skin and his low voice rumbles against his ear when he says, “I'm your huckleberry."


	4. D is for Dick Pic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Tags:**
> 
> \- AU - Supernatural doesn't exist  
> \- Mutual pining  
> \- Friends to lovers  
> \- Sweet ignorant Castiel  
> \- Non-explicit Sabriel side pair (LOOKING AT YOU MICHELLE!)  
> \- Happy misunderstanding  
> \- Rutting  
> \- Implied bottom!Dean  
> \- Oral sex  
> \- Cum sharing

“Bae?” Castiel repeats, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“Before anyone else,” Sam answers, chuckling softly.

“IRL?”

It’s Gabriel who pipes up this time with, “In real life.”

Castiel keeps scrolling through the social media feed Gabriel gave him to look at to get a laugh out of him. He’s only indulging him because it’s also educational. He often doesn’t understand pop culture references people use in everyday conversation, so learning this knowledge couldn’t hurt.

“TL;DR?”

“Too long, didn’t read,” Sam says. “I use that a lot with this one,” he jokes, dropping his giant his hand down on Gabriel’s shoulder and pressing a chaste kiss to his temple.

Castiel avoids looking at them, feeling a familiar jealousy he’s ashamed of creeping in due to the domestic scene before him. Gabriel is currently sitting in Sam’s lap, and though there’s nothing overtly sexual about it at the moment, he envies the easy affection and intimacy that’s grown between them after so many years together.

“Not even sorry I’d rather look at your ass than my phone,” Gabriel says unapologetically.

Sam laughs. “At least I’ll know when to start worrying about our relationship.”

“I’m seeing a surprising amount of eggplant emojis,” Castiel comments. “I didn’t know people enjoyed that vegetable this much.”

Sam passes a hand through his hair as he laughs. “An eggplant emoji is usually meant to be a dick.”

Castiel’s eyebrows shoot up. “And all these people are posting about dicks on Twitter? Isn’t this a public forum?”

Sam shrugs. “Nothing wrong with being open about your sexuality.”

“No, I agree, but for a man to respond to a photo of an attractive woman with an emoji meant to be a penis? Who would do that?”

“More people than you’d think,” Sam says.

“And it’s not always men,” Gabriel points out. “Follow a male porn star and you’ll see more eggplant from thirsty women than at a farmer’s market.”

Castiel sits with that in horror for a minute before he realizes Gabriel means actual eggplant at the farmers market, then keeps scrolling. “Fwb?”

“Friends with benefits,” Gabriel says. “Friends who have sex but no romantic relationship.”

“I know I’ve heard of that, but I don’t remember the context.”

“Probably that movie with Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis Dean watches all the time,” Sam prompts him, and as soon as he says it Castiel knows it’s true.

He feels a flood of warmth inside of him at even the mention of his best friend’s name. “Dean does love his romantic comedies,” he says with a smile.

“Have you talked to him lately?” Gabriel asks.

“Earlier today when he stopped to put gas in Baby. He should be here this evening. He said he’d text again and let me know what he wants for dinner.”

“You know he’s eating all healthy now that he’s training for that fundraising marathon,” Gabriel reminds him. “No pizza and wings like usual for you two.”

“I know. I told him I’d be willing to cook whatever he wants. I’m happy he’s found something to focus on other than his homesickness,” Castiel says.

It’s been almost twelve weeks since he’s seen Dean (not that he’s counting) because he went away for an internship, and it’s the longest they’ve ever gone without seeing each other. Him, his cousin Gabriel, Sam, and Dean grew up as neighbors, and went through elementary school and high school together thanks to Sam skipping two grades. When it came time for college, the four of them all moved in together in an apartment off campus instead of staying at the dorm. Castiel doesn’t even remember a time when he wasn’t in love with Dean, but he’s way out of his league.

He gets to his feet and hands Gabriel’s phone back to him. “That reminds me I wanted to put fresh sheets on his bed for him.”

“You could always accidentally-on-purpose forget so he’d sleep in your room with you,” Gabriel says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Gabriel, please. We all know he doesn’t feel that way about me. I’m pleased just to have his friendship.”

“Yeah, and I’m not gonna ride Sam like a bucking bronco as soon as you leave the room,” Gabriel shoots back.

Sam buries his head in the crook of Gabriel’s neck to muffle his laughter and Castiel walks out of the living room with a frown on his face and a low moan trailing behind him. Apparently he needs to put in his earbuds.

Again.

 

* * *

 

The miles just aren’t disappearing fast enough. Son of a bitch, Dean’s missed home. He missed his brother - hell, he’s even missed Gabe, the annoying little shit, he thinks with a fond smile. But the most surprising thing of all is how much he’s missed Cas. He knew he was going to miss him. They’ve been inseparable pretty much their whole lives, but he had no idea it was going to feel like there’s been a Cas-shaped hole in his chest from the very first morning he walked out of his rented bedroom and wasn’t greeted by a sleep rumpled Cas pouring him a mug of coffee.

Turns out the saying _absence makes the heart grow fonder_ is a saying for a reason. He knew he had a crush on Cas - has had a crush on him for as far back as he can remember - but it took less than a week away from him to realize that somewhere along the way he went and fell in love with him. In an uncharacteristic Dean Winchester move, he was going to call him and tell him as soon as he figured it out, but he knew it would only make the distance between them harder to deal with. So he’s been waiting until he gets home to tell him.

Hopefully it doesn’t fuck everything up between them forever, he thinks as a pit of unease works its way into his stomach. But he pushes it away and instead conjures up the way Castiel’s eyes light up whenever he walks into the room, and if his foot presses down a little heavier on the gas pedal than is strictly legal, well, who can blame him?

He’s less than twenty minutes away when he pulls into the grocery store parking lot to pick up what he wants Cas to make him for dinner. Spaghetti. Nobody makes homemade noodles like Cas, and he’s been daydreaming about it all week.

He tries to remember the healthy recipe he sent to Cas earlier, but can’t recall how much of each ingredient he needs.

He pulls out his phone to text him.

 

* * *

 

Castiel frowns down at his phone when the message comes in.

 

_Surely_ he doesn’t mean a dick pic. But an eggplant pic? That doesn’t make sense either. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself before he even gets to lay eyes on Dean again, so he calls out, “I’m coming into the living room!” as is his habit now after walking in on many things he’s learned he just cannot unsee.

“It’s safe,” Sam answers.

As he rounds the corner, he doesn’t waste any time asking, “Is there any time when somebody might use an eggplant emoji that wasn’t meant to be a dick?”

Gabriel cracks up. “Literally never. Why?”

“So eggplant emoji and then ‘pic’?”

“Oh ho!” Gabriel exclaims. “Somebody wants you to send them a dick pic? Who is it?”

“What about Dean?” Sam asks, sounding hurt on his behalf.

“Dean is my _friend,”_ Castiel repeats for the millionth time. _A friend who wants me to send him a dick pic,_ he thinks internally. “Thanks, Gabe.”

“Make sure you get a good angle!” Gabe calls after him.

A good angle?

He walks back into his bedroom and types out a reply.

 

* * *

 

Dean waits impatiently in the car for Cas to message him back. He kinda thought he’d be just as excited as he is to see him, but apparently not. Finally, his phone dings in his pocket and he swipes to read the message.

 

 

There’s a slight pause, and then he just about drops his phone when he sees Cas sent him a dick pic.

Cas sent him a dick pic.

 _Cas_ _sent_ _him_ _a_ _dick_ _pic!?!_

It’s unmistakably Cas. He’d know those long, graceful fingers of his anywhere, and though he’s imagined what his dick looks like hard and waiting for him a lot over the years, he never thought in a million years that he’d find out because _Cas_ sent him a dick pic.

It doesn’t look like he’s any longer than Dean, but he’s nice and thick, and Dean’s dick fills rapidly when he thinks about how good it’s gonna feel to get stuffed by that cock. _Castiel’s_ cock.

With groceries and eggplant spaghetti now completely gone from his mind, he pulls through the empty parking spot in front of him and races home. If Cas is hard and waiting for him, he’s not about to leave the guy hanging.

Once he gets home, he leaves his bags in the car, slams the car door shut, and dead ass jogs into his house. Sam and Gabe are in the living room and they both hop up to welcome him, but he lifts a hand and says, “Gimme a half hour,” before he speeds past their bewildered faces towards Castiel’s room. “Maybe an hour,” he corrects over his shoulder.

He doesn’t bother knocking, just pushes Castiel’s door open to find his best friend sitting awkwardly on the side of his bed with his dick still out, his dress shirt on, and his white boxer shorts around his ankles. His bottom lip is chewed raw and his phone is still in his hand.

“Dean!” he says in surprise, quickly scrambling to his feet to pull his boxers up.

“So now you’re gonna be shy?” Dean teases him, erasing the space between them with a few predatory steps to pull him into his arms. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Castiel relaxes into his embrace, tucking his nose against his neck. “I missed you, too.”

Dean drops his hand from around Castiel’s waist to rub over his erection to get this show on the road, and he gets the distinct pleasure of hearing Castiel’s oh-so-low voice moan his name.

“You have no idea how many times I wondered what’d you sound like moaning my name,” Dean says with a lavish grin, leaning away from him to get a look at his face. His usually bright blue eyes are dark with lust, and Dean dives in with abandon.

He catches Castiel’s lips in a passionate kiss, _finally_ knowing exactly what it’s like to kiss his best friend and the man he’s in love with. His hands slide into his wild hair, drawing another moan out of Cas that has his dick standing at rapt attention. He tucks up against him, straddling Castiel’s thick thigh and letting him feel how hard he is while he plunges his tongue into Castiel’s mouth. He groans in surprise when Castiel takes control of the kiss and the situation.

 

* * *

 

Castiel has no idea what the fuck is happening, but whatever it is, he is entirely on board with the surprising turn of events in the last few minutes. Even if it’s only this one time, he wants Dean and Dean wants him, and he’s nowhere near strong enough to say no to this. To say no to Dean.

His hands fall to Dean’s hips and he spins him, noticing for the first time that his frame is smaller than it was before he left. Training and eating well has changed Dean’s body rather quickly, he realizes.

Not that it matters. Castiel loves him regardless what he looks like. It does make it easier to manhandle Dean onto his bed and drape his body over Dean’s though. Dean gets one of his bowed legs up and around his waist, and Castiel is already pushing him into his mattress with one thrust after another before a single item of clothing has been removed.

Dean breaks the seal of their kiss and starts in on his buttons, which Castiel has zero patience for. He bats his hands away and goes for Dean’s jeans instead, flipping the button, lowering the zipper, and pushing down his boxers and jeans all in one shot. Dean’s hands shove his boxers down, which Cas kicks off of his legs as he lies himself down on Dean, lining up their cocks before smashing their lips back together.

He can feel that Dean is fumbling beside them for something blindly, but he’s too busy rolling his hips to drag their cocks together and eliciting needy sounds of pleasure from Dean’s mouth to pay him any mind. He pushes Dean’s shirt up and pulls his own up as well, so they’re skin to skin everywhere they can be without breaking the seal of their lips.

Dean’s free hand grapples at his lower back, his nails digging in as he urges him into a faster grind that has Castiel moaning as his cock slips through their combined juices between their stomachs again and again. His small room is a symphony of sounds: sighs, grunts, groans, moans, skin slapping together and the quiet squeak of the bed frame being jostled as they continue to move together in a frenzied pace.

Dean makes a sudden sound of triumph against his lips he doesn’t understand until he hears the familiar click of a bottle, and then Dean snakes his lubed up hand between them and Castiel is the one who breaks their kiss to call out in surprise of just how fucking good that feels.

“Fuck me,” Dean whispers desperately. “Please, Cas. Want that thick cock.”

“Can’t,” Castiel gasps, bucking into his hand. “Too close.”

“Shit, me too,” Dean laughs breathlessly.

“Later,” Castiel promises before capturing his lips again, and Dean hums his agreement while he sucks his tongue into his mouth. “Mmmf,” Castiel says as he increases the intensity of his thrusting, feeling the now slick slide of his cock against Dean’s. Their dicks rubbing one another and sandwiched between their bodies combined with their balls rolling together deliciously has heat spiking in his stomach way faster than he’d like it to. But this is _Dean_ underneath him, more alive and vocal with his pleasure than in any of Castiel’s wildest dreams, and it’s causing him to come undone with breakneck speed.

 

* * *

 

Dean can feel the tell tale signs of his orgasm approaching, and hell, he’s pretty sure it hasn’t even been five whole minutes. But Cas is unbelievable. The way the dude’s grinding on him and pressing him into the mattress like a fucking porn star has his blood racing through his veins and his cock desperate to blow.

He pulls away with a groan. “I’m gonna -” But then he sees the way sweat is beginning to bead and drip down Castiel’s tanned neck, and he surges up to lick it up, scraping his teeth over the prominent collarbone featured in his spank bank for much longer than he’d admit to. And _shit,_ as his tongue flattens to sweep over the deep hollow of his clavicle he has a startling clear vision of jacking himself off, giving Cas a pearl necklace, and then lapping up his own cum from this very spot - and he comes like a fucking rocket.

 _“Fuck!”_ he yells as his body jerks, convulsing over and over as his orgasm is ripped out of him, his cock pumping thick pulses of cum all over both of them. “Cas! Cas, Cas, Cas, fuck. Oh _fuck.”_

Cas actually growls as he keeps thrusting through the mess Dean left, and in an insane moment of mindless need, he claws at Castiel’s hips, dragging him up his body until Cas is straddling his face. Then he licks his lips and opens his mouth wide in invitation.

 

* * *

 

Castiel has obviously died and gone to heaven, he thinks as he feeds his straining cock inch by inch through the plush lips he’s fantasized about more than anything in his life. His dick is covered in Dean’s cum, and still, he can feel Dean’s tongue swirl around his head like he’s desperate to lap up every drop.

“Jesus Christ, Dean,” he rasps as he grabs a hold of the bed frame to steady himself.

He can see the sparkle of mischief in Dean’s eyes a split second before his blood-red lips stretch thin and form a tight seal around his girth. Then Dean applies suction, and all he can see is stars. Dean gets two handfuls of his ass and pulls him in, and he shudders as he feels his cock drag along the tongue pressed up against the sensitive underside of his cock. He barely has a chance to enjoy it before the arousal that’d been simmering comes to a sudden boiling point, and he forces his eyes open to sear the image of Dean’s luscious lips covered in his own cum and his cheeks caved in from sucking his dick this hard. Dean’s green eyes flick up to his and his warning dies in his throat as he floods his best friend’s mouth with his cum.

He obviously took him by surprise, and he groans when he feels Dean choke around him before he starts swallowing as much as he can. It’s too late though, and Castiel’s spend is mixing with Dean’s as it dribbles down the corners of his mouth and onto his chin, forcing another wave of arousal rushing through him that he can feel Dean suck down and swallow.

He pulls out reluctantly so Dean can catch his breath, but instead, Dean pushes himself to sit up with one hand supporting Castiel's lower back. Castiel slides down his body awkwardly to land in his lap, and then Dean’s hands are in his hair and pulling him in for what is undoubtedly the filthiest, sexiest kiss of his life. Their cum gets shared between their mouths, mixed with each sweep of their tongues, and they’re both making low, contented sounds as Dean’s hands fist in his hair and hold him in place until he’s had his fill.

Only then does he collapse back onto the bed, pulling Cas down with him.

They’re both panting. Castiel’s dress shirt is rucked up uncomfortably to his armpits, causing a button to dig into his breastbone painfully, but he literally cannot move a bone in his body. If he even has bones left. They may have actually melted, which would be fine if it wasn't for that stupid fucking button.

“Help,” he whines, and Dean chuckles beneath him.

“You’re frigging squishing me but if this is how I die, I win at life."

“I think a button is embedding itself permanently into my chest.”

“I’ll move if you move,” Dean offers.

“No,” Castiel says stubbornly, making Dean shake with laughter beneath him.

“Roll over and I’ll help you get your shirt off.”

Castiel grunts but rolls over with the aid of a push from Dean. Then Dean’s grinning down at him, a flush high on his cheekbones that highlights his freckles as he begins undoing his buttons. He opens his shirt and kisses the red mark on his chest, simultaneously making his heart turn to mush. “Better?”

“No. You still have a shirt on.”

Dean laughs and pulls it up over his head to toss it onto the floor before he settles himself down on Castiel’s chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Castiel wraps his arms around him and kisses the top of his head, thinking that maybe it really _is_ the most natural thing in the world.

“Welcome home,” Castiel says, making Dean laugh again.

“If that’s the homecoming I get, I shoulda left years ago.”

“I really did miss you,” Castiel says, sincerely now.

“I missed you too, Cas. You got no idea. I felt like - like a piece of me was missing the whole time I was away from you."

Castiel closes his eyes, sending a fleeting wish to anybody and anything that may be listening that Dean means what he thinks he means. "I missed you every day."

"Well you're stuck with me now. Maybe literally if we don't wash off."

"I'll take my chances," Castiel jokes. 

"Shit," Dean sighs heavily, starting to chuckle. "I still can't believe you sent me a dick pic."

"I still can't believe you asked for one from me of all people," Castiel admits. "I've wanted to be with you for as long as I can remember, but I always thought you knew you were way too good for me."

"What?" Dean asks.

"You're gorgeous, and smart, and everybody likes you. You're popular and funny -"  
  
"You can keep going later, but what the hell do you mean  _I asked_ you for a dick pic? I damn near had a heart attack out of pure shock when I got that message."

"You said you wanted a dick pic!" Castiel exclaims.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asks, reaching for where Castiel's phone landed on the mattress near their feet. "Look." He swipes and enters Castiel's password without asking what it is, then points to where their message is still open on the screen. 

Castiel points the eggplant and the word _pic_ one at a time. "Dick pic," he says slowly.

Dean's jaw drops for a split second before he doubles over laughing, landing flat on his back with his arm thrown over his face as his entire body shakes with his laughter. Feeling like Dean's making fun of him (as he's known to do) he says, "Gabriel told me that emoji means dick!"

Dean swipes his hand through the air pointlessly, trying to convey  _something_ through his laughter that Castiel isn't picking up on. Annoyed, he sits up and reaches for his discarded boxers on the bedroom floor. Dean grabs him by his wrist and tugs him back down, holding tight even when he tries to struggle away.

"Hang on a damn second," Dean says, still trying to breathe through his laughter. "I was at the grocery store, Cas. I wanted the recipe for the -"

"Eggplant spaghetti," Castiel whispers, suddenly remembering as he covers  _his face_ with his hands due to embarrassment. "Oh my god," he groans. "This is so embarrassing!"

"Are you kidding me? After what just happened between us because of that misunderstanding I'm building a fucking eggplant monument in the front yard."

"I'm going to kill Gabriel," Castiel says darkly.

"I'm gonna shake his damn hand."

"Dean," Castiel says, suddenly sounding serious. "What if I didn't send you that picture?"

"I was gonna tell you," Dean answers, pushing his fingers through his hair. "I didn't know 'til I left, but I - well, heh, don't wanna come on too strong here -"  
  
"I love you," Castiel says, the words slipping from his mouth like he's said them a million times before.

"Way to steal my thunder," Dean complains, but when he pops his head up, he's smiling so bright he could light the sky. "I love you, too."

He lowers his lips to brush against Castiel's softly. "Now I feel bad for ruining what you wanted for supper," Castiel admits.

"Fuck it, I say we order pizza and wings," Dean says, flopping onto his back.

"What about eating healthy?"

"I guess we'll just have to come up with a way to burn off those extra calories," Dean says suggestively. "How long do you think you need for a round two?" 

"I'm fairly confident that by the time I have you opened up and begging for it, I'll be ready to go."

Dean folds his hands behind his head and starts to say, "Well, what are you waiting f-"  but never gets out the full sentence because Castiel is between his legs with his knees hooked over his shoulders and his tongue swiping across his hole.  _"Holy shit!"_ Dean calls out.

"Didn't you get your fill the first time, Dean-o?" Gabriel yells through the door.

"Fuck off, Gabe," Dean barks at him.

"Don't mind if I do," Gabriel says. "Come on, Samsquatch. Let's show 'em how it's done."

Castiel lifts his head to look at Dean questioningly. "You keep doin' that and we'll never hear them anyway," Dean says with a grin, answering his silent question.

Briefly thinking of all the times he's been unlucky enough to walk in on or overhear Gabe and Sam, Castiel buries his tongue back into his new boyfriend's ass with a new goal in mind: _payback._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Didn't you get your fill the first time?" brought to you by who I consider to be the Sabriel expert, [Loudenswainfangirl.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoudenSwainfangirl)


End file.
